


All that Glitters

by rivers_bend



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Tommy Ratliff (Musician)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, High School, M/M, Partner Swapping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-14
Updated: 2010-09-14
Packaged: 2017-10-11 20:17:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/116664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivers_bend/pseuds/rivers_bend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What would happen, said I, if I set that Adam/Tommy high school AU I was wanting to write in Sunnydale during the Scoobies' senior year? Apparently, this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All that Glitters

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amazonziti](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amazonziti/gifts).



> I do not know any of the real people whose personas are used in this story, and I don't own any of the fictional characters or settings and garner no financial gain from their use. Clearly this didn't happen, but ain't fiction grand?

Adam Lambert was _not_ happy, and he didn't care who knew it. Bad enough his parents were getting a divorce, but then his mom, Leila, announced they were moving. And not just houses, either. Out of San Diego altogether to someplace no one had ever heard of up towards LA. Sunnydale or something. Suckydale, more like. Not that he was exactly in love with the school where he was, but the assholes had stopped calling him fag and shoving him into lockers once he got taller than most of them, and the administration had had to back down and let him wear eyeliner after his mom and dad threatened to take them to court since there wasn't a make-up policy for girls, and he was just _that gay kid_ now rather than an object of constant ridicule. Plus, the drama club was doing two musicals next year instead of just one, and he was finally going to be a senior, and it just wasn't _fair_.

"Life's not fair," his mom said. "You're seventeen, and you're still in high school, so I'm still the boss, and you and your brother are coming with me. That's just the way it goes. Now pack up your room or the movers will decide what to do with all your stuff."

Adam didn't like the thought of that, so he packed.

They got to Sunnydale two weeks before school started. Their house was pretty nice, and he didn't have to share a bathroom with Neil anymore—which probably made Neil even happier than it made Adam; he bitched a _lot_ about Adam getting face powder on his toothbrush, even though Adam didn't even use face powder. He still didn't have a car, but it was at least easy to walk downtown. The stores kind of sucked, but there was a club called The Bronze which seemed to be the high school hang-out, and they had live music, which was better than anything they had back home for people under 21. Adam had mostly been to arena shows and folk festivals. They were fun, but not as good as small venues for watching the performers closely—something his voice teacher back in San Diego had always been telling him to do.

Adam wasn't going to tell his mother, but Sunnydale might be cooler than he thought it was going to be.

The first night he went to the Bronze he had to take Neil, who complained the whole time that the music sucked—and who wanted to play pool even though the guys at the table were much older and looked like they'd wipe the floor with Neil if he approached them—but it was still a pretty good time. There were more Goths than Adam was expecting, which meant he wasn't the only guy there in eyeliner, though he was the only one without chips in his nail polish. The bartenders made virgin cocktails, and Adam thought the band was pretty good, though the singer tended to elide her consonants and her vibrato got a little out of control on the high notes. Getting to sit with a drink and listen to live music was amazing, however, and the night was definitely a win. He still made Neil stay home to keep their mom company when he went back two days later, though.

That night the band was a little rougher sounding, but the bass player was the most beautiful guy Adam had ever seen—tiny and slim with dyed-blond hair falling over his pretty face. Adam was staring, trying not to be too obvious about it, when a voice and a tap on his elbow interrupted him.

"You a Dingoes fan?"

The girl was short and cute in a sort of funky-but-unadorned way, but her plain looks didn't make her words any clearer. "A what?" Adam said.

Gesturing vaguely at the stage, she said again, "Dingoes ate my Baby."

"I'm sorry?" Adam answered, in case that was the right thing to say, before he got that she was telling him the band's name.

"The guitar player's my boyfriend," she added. Then, "Oz."

"I'm Adam," Adam said.

"Oh, no. He's Oz. I'm Willow."

Adam was still feeling a little confused. He blamed the guy on stage—not Oz, thankfully, as he was pretty sure he didn't want this Willow mad at him—who was ridiculously distracting. "Are you friends with the whole band?" he asked, probably not as subtly as he hoped.

"I'll warn you right now, with Devon what you see is what you get. _All_ you get. He's almost completely brainless, so don't go expecting any conversation. Also, I'm pretty sure he only dates girls."

In Adam's experience _all_ high school boys only dated girls, so he didn't actually see this as much of a deterrent to his crush. But he did like something behind a guy's looks, so the brainless part was a letdown. Maybe this Devon just didn't show it off to Willow. "He's pretty good on the bass," he said. "So he's not _just_ looks."

"You're looking at Tommy?" Willow smiled at that. "Tommy's adorable."

"Who's Devon?" Adam looked around the stage, but none of the guys were as pretty as the boy in the leather collar rocking out in front of the drummer.

"The lead singer. Everyone wants to sleep with him."

Once again, Adam proved himself _not_ everyone. Story of his life.

"Do they go to Sunnydale?" The drummer and the rhythm guitar player looked like they might be in college, but Tommy and Oz definitely looked like high school.

"Devon and Tommy are gonna be seniors, and Phil and Axel are older. Oz was a senior last year, too, actually, but he didn't graduate." Willow looked strangely pleased about this for someone who seemed to value intelligence.

When Adam told her he was going to be a senior too, Willow started asking him questions about where he came from, and tried to warn him that things in Sunnydale were going to be pretty different. But Adam was used to different, and the things she was telling him sounded a little crazy, so he mostly ignored the details and tried to figure out if Tommy was wearing eyeliner or if he just had big eyes. He bought Willow a drink though, and kept her talking, so he'd have an excuse to go with her to meet Tommy after the show.

Willow was more than happy to oblige.

Adam had a moment of feeling like a freakish giant when Willow took him over where the Dingoes were packing up after their set, and he almost fled before Willow could introduce him. But then Tommy looked up from where he was stowing a strap in one of the bags, and he _was_ wearing eyeliner, and the look he gave Adam wasn't scornful or dismissive. It was—Adam wasn't sure what exactly, but it riveted him to the spot.

"Guys, this is Adam," Willow said. "And Adam, this is Oz, Devon, Phil, and Axel. And this—" She shoved Adam forward—"is Tommy."

The others said, "Hey," or nodded, but Tommy held out his hand. "Hi, Adam," he said.

His grip was strong, and reminded Adam of how tired his fingers had gotten the few times he'd tried to play guitar before he realized that his voice was really his instrument and he shouldn't try to branch out. Adam wanted to linger, see where Tommy's calluses were, just keep the connection. But he shook and let go and wasn't a total creeper.

"Adam's your newest fan," Willow said, and to Adam's embarrassment, she was looking right at Tommy. But she turned to Oz when she added, "He's gonna be a senior with us," so maybe no one noticed her matchmaking.

"We're going to the park if you want to hang," Phil said, nudging Oz's elbow to get his attention.

"You up for the park?" Oz asked Willow.

"Sure," she said, looking towards Adam.

"You come too," Tommy said. "It's just a park, but it'll be cool."

Adam wouldn't have said no if Tommy asked him to go hang out in the sewers. The park sounded great.

Sitting on picnic tables with the others, Adam and Tommy talked for three hours, until Adam realized his mother was going to _kill_ him if he didn't get home. They discussed music, and southern California, and the fact that Tommy was still together with the girlfriend he'd left behind in LA eighteen months before. Adam had a twinge of disappointment at that, but Tommy didn't sound very serious about her and he was practically sitting in Adam's lap by the time he'd finished the single beer one of the older boys gave each of them, so the news didn't get Adam down for very long.

None of the guys in the band seemed to have a problem with Adam or with his interest in Tommy. Willow kept smiling at them indulgently from her spot between Oz's legs, and Adam thought he might have seen Oz wink in his direction once or twice, but the light wasn't very good so he was probably imagining it. The biggest change from San Diego was that no one asked him why he was wearing makeup, or called him names. Best of all, Tommy wouldn't let Adam leave until he'd written his phone number on Adam's wrist and extracted a promise that he'd call. Adam couldn't remember his new phone number to give Tommy in return, but he had no intention of going back on his promise, so he wasn't all that worried about not seeing him again.

In the remaining week before school started, Tommy practically lived at Adam's house. It turned out that Tommy played guitar as well as bass, and he'd bring his acoustic over and make Adam sing Depeche Mode songs until Neil threatened to break down the bedroom door and kill them both with a spoon. They watched movies—Tommy tried to sneak _Nightmare on Elm Street_ in twice, but Adam put his foot down and put _Romeo + Juliet_ on instead—ate microwave popcorn, and drank so much soda that Adam's mom asked if he was buying stock in Pepsi. One day Tommy asked Adam to do his makeup, and when Adam tried to go with subtle—not much more than Tommy already did on his own, really—Tommy complained and made him add two shades of eye shadow plus Adam's darkest lipstick, which Adam himself had only worn to Rocky Horror once.

"I've known you like five days," Tommy said the Saturday before classes started. "And you're totally like the best friend I've ever had."

Boys, in Adam's experience, didn't put all that stuff out there the way Tommy did, and he wasn't sure what to say. But he felt the same way, so he nodded and sat on his hands so he didn't grab Tommy and hug him to death. He still wasn't sure how Tommy would feel about _that_.

Adam was still waiting and wondering how Tommy might react to friendly hugs hello and goodbye when they skipped right over that step to kissing. The first time was behind the library after school on the one-month anniversary of the night they met—though that was purely a coincidence, and neither of them noticed the date until Willow pointed it out months later. They had a project to do for History, but Mr. Giles wouldn't let them in the library until four thirty. He was very mysterious about it, too, and they were curious, so decided to wait instead of just doing it the next day. They sat on a low wall under a tree, watching people leave to catch their buses or pack into the cars in the parking lot. Thinking he should probably do something other than watch how the sun glinted off the white-blond streaks in Tommy's hair, Adam got their text book out.

"I broke up with Dee," Tommy blurted when Adam tried to ask a question about the Constitution.

"Oh," Adam said. "Sorry?" He really needed to work on his sincere voice.

"No," Tommy said, picking the nail polish off his thumb. "I mean—" He darted a look around, didn't see anyone, and dove at Adam, mashing their lips together for a moment before sitting back and looking at Adam through his eyelashes.

"Oh!" Adam said a second time. Then, "Sorry," again, this time apologizing for not getting it at first. Before Tommy could repeat his protest, though, Adam buried his fingers in the shaggy Mohawk at the back of Tommy's neck and tugged him forward for a real kiss.

Clearly surprised, despite having started it, Tommy grabbed at Adam's shirt to keep his balance, making Adam choke as it tightened around his neck. They bumped noses and pulled apart. "I'm usually better at this," Tommy said.

"I'm—" Adam didn't actually know if he was a good kisser or not, as his only experience was kissing Becky Shulman in a spin-the-bottle game at theater camp when he was thirteen, and that had barely been a peck on the lips. "Do you want to try again?"

Tommy put a hand on Adam's thigh and was starting to lean in when he looked over Adam's shoulder and jerked back. "Yeah," he whispered. "Later, though."

"What's up, _Glam_ bert?" a large blond guy in a letter jacket said, walking past looking like he smelled something he didn't like. Adam had no idea who he was, though clearly he knew Adam, at least by reputation. But Tommy had _kissed_ him, and wanted to do it again, so Adam couldn't even muster up any disappointment that he didn't leave all the bullies behind in San Diego.

Just then, Willow and some of her friends came out of the library. She waved and smiled, but had a worried look on her face, and with a gesture that Adam took to mean she'd see them later, she hurried off with the other two in the opposite direction.

"That's Buffy and Xander," Tommy said. "I'm pretty sure Buffy has superpowers."

"Superpowers." Adam remembered Willow warning him the night they met against walking anywhere alone after dark or talking to strangers. "Like Batman?" As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Adam recalled that Batman had gadgets more than superpowers. He wasn't very up on comic books.

But Tommy didn't call him on it, just said, "Sort of. She doesn't drive though." He stood and held out a hand to Adam.

Stuffing his book back in his bag, Adam let Tommy pull him up. He wasn't sure what driving had to do with anything, but he'd learned by now that Tommy didn't always make sense at first, but often his leaps of logic weren't really leaps if you paid more attention, so he let it slide. Tommy kept his hand in Adam's even after they started walking toward the library door, which was now propped open.

"I used to want to be Robin because that seemed like the best chance I had to get to drive the Batmobile. But, like, I think only Batman gets to drive it."

The Batmobile. Of course. "You'd look pretty good in Robin's tights, though," Adam risked saying. Tommy just smiled at him, which was a huge improvement on punching him in the stomach. Adam had definitely never met anyone quite like Tommy before.

Mr. Giles was very helpful, though it was pretty obvious he was only doing it to get them out of the library quickly. They left laden with four books and a list of dates Giles gave them as soon as they mentioned their topic was the Fourteenth Amendment.

"We can finish up at my house," Adam said, hopeful note too obvious in his ears. The project wasn't due until the next week, and his mom was at work, and Neil had been spending a lot of time after school practicing piano in the band room, so they'd probably have the house to themselves.

"Okay," Tommy said, giving Adam a slow smile before nuzzle-bumping Adam's shoulder with his cheek.

Finishing up what they'd started under the tree, then, rather than their project. Adam wasn't going to complain about that.

They held hands all the way to Tommy's Pinto in the parking lot, and once they were moving, Tommy gave Adam heated looks every time they hit a stop sign. Unable to believe his luck, Adam kept wanting to ask if Tommy was sure about this, but by some kind of miracle he managed to keep his mouth shut. He didn't want Tommy to think Adam wasn't sure. Because Adam _was_ sure. Scared, yeah. But definitely sure.

Adam's luck held, and no one was home when they got there. Nervous, he offered Tommy a drink, and something to eat, but Tommy just said, "Maybe later," and gave Adam a look that had Adam wondering how to get air into his lungs.

Once they were in his bedroom, Adam wasn't sure what to do. Were they supposed to take their shirts off? Kiss standing up? Get on the bed before they did anything? Was he supposed to lie down, or sit knee-to-knee with Tommy like they were under the tree? Tommy stood looking at him like he thought Adam would make the first move, and Adam would have been happy to, if only he knew what the first move was. Finally, after what seemed like half an hour, Tommy toed his shoes off and sat on Adam's bed, twining his fingers in Adam's and tugging him forward.

"My boots," Adam said, reluctantly pulling his hand away from Tommy's.

Tommy didn't seem to mind Adam pausing, though, just used the time to gaze at Adam from under his eyelashes some more while he moved to lie down in the center of the mattress. He didn't remove his shirt, so Adam left his on, too, and once he had his shoes off he climbed onto the bed.

In his head, Adam confidently pulled Tommy close and kissed him, rolling them so Tommy wasn't crushed under him and Adam could run his hands over Tommy's ass. In reality he froze, lying on his side about eight inches from Tommy, looking, but scared to touch.

"I won't bite," Tommy said softly, putting a hand on Adam's wrist, and then even more quietly, "But you're welcome to if you want."

Adam said something that sounded like, "gnnumff," and let Tommy drag his hand across to Tommy's far hip. Before Adam could even process how amazing that was, Tommy was wiggling underneath him, wrapping his arms around Adam's neck and kissing him. Really kissing him, slow and hot and wet and pretty much the most amazing thing Adam had ever felt in his life.

It turned out he didn't really need to worry about whether he was good at it or not, because his brain was short circuiting, and he just acted on instinct. He opened his mouth when Tommy's tongue touched his lips, and then found his hand on the back of Tommy's neck, lifting him so he could kiss him more deeply, lick at his tongue and teeth. Tommy went soft and pliant under him, except for his dick, which he was grinding up against Adam's thigh. The feeling of Tommy bending so easily where Adam pushed him made Adam crazy with want, and he pushed more, sliding a hand up Tommy's arm to his wrist, pinning it to the bed above his head while Adam shifted so he could rub his own dick against Tommy's hip.

Tommy started whimpering and thrusting harder, twisting his wrist in Adam's grip, but before Adam could worry if he should let go, Tommy was trying to push his other arm into the circle of Adam's fingers.

"God, Tommy," Adam whispered, widening his hold to wrap around Tommy's crossed wrists and push both Tommy's arms into the pillows. "You're so—"

"Fuck, fuck, just—" Tommy arched his back, exposing his neck, and Adam remembered what he said about biting.

"Can I—" Adam licked the spot just above where the muscle that started under his ear curved out to Tommy's shoulder, and when Tommy gasped, Adam fastened his lips around the spot and sucked gently.

"Yes, oh my god, fuck—" Tommy pressed up into the suction, so Adam used his teeth, biting down until he felt Tommy shivering underneath him. Tommy was panting, and making little gasping noises, each one ratcheting up Adam's urge to bite and suck, to leave his mark.

Adam felt like he was going to cry, or explode, or come in his pants, and was grinding against Tommy harder and harder, pulling his hair to arch his neck higher, wrenching keening sounds from his throat. There were so many clothes between them and Adam wanted them _gone_ , but there was no way he could let go to do anything about that, so he just rubbed through the layers of cotton separating them, his thigh against Tommy's dick, his dick against Tommy's hip.

With a leg hooked over the back of Adam's knee, Tommy had enough leverage to give himself the friction he needed to come, rocking up and up against the pressure, shuddering so hard when he got there that he nearly bucked Adam off. The feeling of it, the way he went rigid and then limp, made Adam's stomach jump and roll deliciously. He let go Tommy's wrists so he could gather him up, tip them onto their sides, kiss all over Tommy's face, not coordinated enough to find his lips again.

One of Tommy's hands threaded through Adam's hair, stilling him enough to kiss him properly, and the other he wormed between them, finding Adam's dick and giving him something to press against that pressed back. When Tommy's fingers curled around his length, Adam choked on an embarrassed noise and came, shaking with the release before collapsing half onto Tommy again.

"Sorry," he murmured into Tommy's neck. He tried to get his elbows underneath him, but it was kind of a lost cause. "You okay?"

"Mmmm," Tommy said. "Mmmmm mmm mmmmmm." He used the arm around Adam's neck to pull him even closer.

Adam gave in, just shifting his leg a little to get more comfortable before relaxing completely, succumbing to the way Tommy was petting his hair, drifting, blissed out.

 

******

 

Adam thought they should keep the nature of their relationship secret at school, but that worked about as well as keeping it a secret from his mom who had been in the kitchen when they came downstairs that first day. She'd taken one look at Tommy in one of Adam's t-shirts—which looked ridiculous but was long enough to cover the stain on Tommy's jeans—and with a giant hickey on his neck, and figured out what was going on. At the time she just smiled and told Tommy it was nice to see him again, but after Adam had walked Tommy out to his car she told her son she was glad he'd found a nice boy, but gave him the same speech she gave him at thirteen when his dad found him watching gay porn on the computer, about condoms and water-based lube and being sure you were sure before going too far. Same as he had then, Adam kind of wanted to die, even though he knew he was lucky as anything that he had _his_ mom and not someone who thought he was going to hell for wanting to make out with boys instead of girls.

In the cafeteria at lunch time, Willow skipped the talk about condoms, but eyed the bite-mark on Tommy's neck carefully and then asked Adam a bunch of bizarre questions about garlic bread and sunbathing and the mirror he used to put on his makeup.

"Is there some kind of rule against hickeys?" Adam asked her. He wanted to ask her if she was on drugs, but that didn't seem politic.

"You can never be too careful around here," she said. Which didn't exactly make things any clearer, but she seemed to be satisfied after that, and moved on to asking Tommy if he'd done his computer homework yet and if he wanted any help with it.

Tommy hadn't understood why Adam wanted to keep things a secret, anyway. When Adam told him about the name calling and the pushing and being stuffed into lockers, he just said, "You won't let that happen," which was ridiculously naïve. But Adam couldn't bring himself to pull away when Tommy wanted to hold his hand in the halls or kiss him goodbye when they had separate classes, so he hoped that the rock-band cool factor, or whatever it was that seemed to protect Oz from all kinds of flack despite his size and general oddness, shielded Tommy, too.

It turned out that bullies were not what Adam needed to worry about protecting Tommy from, and that being attacked had nothing to do with whether or not they were out at school.

The two of them had been at the Bronze with Oz and Willow, Xander, Buffy, and Xander's girlfriend Cordelia, and were walking home, when an attractive but brittle-looking girl with long red hair appeared out of nowhere and got between them, edging Tommy toward a darkened parking lot with a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey!" Adam said, going to pull her off Tommy. She was much stronger than she looked. He pushed her harder, which gave Tommy time to dart around her and back to Adam's side.

"He's pretty," she said. "I want him."

"Well you can't—" Adam started, but he was interrupted by the sight of someone small and blonde vaulting the fence by the lot and stabbing the woman in the chest with… a piece of wood.

"What?" he said, but before he could go further, the redhead burst into a cloud of dust and disappeared. The blonde turned around and was Buffy.

"Hi, guys," she said, like this was totally normal behavior.

"Hey Buffy," said Tommy. "Thanks. That was pretty cool."

"Her superpower is turning people into dust?" Adam's brain was pretty much running around screaming, but he sounded remarkably calm. And only a tad incredulous.

"Not people," said Buffy. "Vampires."

Tommy had edged closer and was checking out Buffy's stake. "Not as high-tech as Batman, but it sure does the job."

"Batman?" Buffy said.

"It's a long story," Adam answered. "Did you just say _vampires_?"

"Didn't Willow tell you?"

"She somehow forgot to mention that."

"I thought it was a metaphor," Tommy said.

"A metaphor for _what_?" _Now_ Adam sounded incredulous.

"You know, like, creatures of the night, preying on the innocent."

"That's actually the literal definition of vampires," Buffy pointed out.

"I meant more in the way Freddy Krueger is the boogey man," Tommy said.

Buffy looked from Tommy to Adam, a question in her eyes.

"I have no idea what either of you are talking about," Adam said. "But I'm pretty sure I don't like it."

"It's not general knowledge," Buffy said, "but Sunnydale is built on a Hellmouth. There's all kinds of stuff here you won't like."

"That explains a lot, actually," Tommy said.

Adam didn't want to know.

"Vampires, demons, sea monsters, mummies that come to life, that kind of thing," Buffy continued.

"And Halloween costumes that turn kids into real zombies," Tommy added.

"I don't want to _know_." What Adam _did_ want was to sit down. So he did, right there on the curb, not even caring that he was getting his new jeans dirty.

"Hey," Tommy said, sitting with him and wrapping Adam's arm around his shoulders. "You get used to it. It's okay."

"How is it okay?" But Adam did feel better stroking a hand up and down Tommy's arm, knowing that it was his _boyfriend's_ head resting heavy on his collar bone.

"We have Buffy," Tommy said, like that one thing mitigated all the rest.

"Come on," Buffy said. "I'll walk you home. I have to patrol that way anyway."

Much as Adam wanted to be the guy who could protect his boyfriend on his own, vampires and school bullies were not even in the same league, so he wasn't going to turn down a girl with superpowers and a sharp stick.

******

Weirdly, Tommy was actually right. Adam did get used to the strange goings on in Sunnydale. He cornered Willow one evening while Oz and Tommy were at band practice and made her give him a rundown of everything she knew about the Hellmouth, which despite being mostly rather horrifying, made him feel better. Then she explained about the whole Slayer thing, and Buffy, and Giles, and told him about the other slayer in town, Faith.

"She's not much like Buffy," Willow said, "but she's useful, mostly."

Adam had to believe, after everything Willow had told him, that with regards to having two super-strong girls instead of one who knew how to fight vampires and demons, "useful" was not nearly a strong enough word.

"And I guess I should tell you about Oz," Willow said, once she'd exhausted (Adam hoped) the topic of strange goings on over a Hellmouth.

Adam was expecting the story of how someone as smart as Oz managed to fail to graduate, or maybe something about how she and Oz had gotten together. He did _not_ expect to hear, "He's a werewolf."

A few weeks before, he would have been certain she was joking. Which might explain why he said, "You're joking," even though he was pretty sure she wasn't.

"No. His cousin bit him." Willow sounded resigned to this instead of totally freaked out. Then again, she had lived here all her life.

"And this is…" Adam trailed off, not sure what he was trying to say.

"Well it isn't of the good, obviously, but he's got a cage and everything. You know."

Adam did not know, but that was fine with him. He changed the subject.

"So how did you two get together?"

Willow seemed pleased with the new topic, and Adam enjoyed watching her light up as she talked about Oz. He hadn't always been the strutting, eyeliner-wearing, confident-seeming guy he tried so hard to be now, and he could tell that Willow had had her share of self-conscious days, too. He was queer, she was brainy, but the _why_ of your difference didn't matter much to kids; they'd beat you down anyway. Oz clearly made her feel beautiful as well as smart, and there was something about him that straightened her spine, made her walk tall. Adam loved Oz a little bit for that. He felt like his smooth transition in Sunnydale was in large part to Willow's friendship, and he had no way to repay her, so he was glad someone was giving her the happiness she'd helped him find.

Which, okay, all sounded a little melodramatic when he thought about it like that, but Adam never thought he'd get a boyfriend at all, much less one who made him as happy as Tommy Joe Ratliff made him, and Willow had introduced them, and he could be sappy about it if he wanted to. Even his mother called him a drama queen, after all.

 

After their talk, Willow and Adam fell into a habit of hanging out when the Dingoes were rehearsing. She knew a _lot_ about things he knew nothing about, like demons and witchcraft and computers and math, and very little about things _he_ knew lots about, like makeup and singing and acting and going to a high school where none of the teachers turned out to be praying-mantis creatures, so they always had a lot to talk about. One day they hung out at Adam's house after school, but his mom got all excited about the whole Jewish thing, and though she never said anything about how nice it would be if Adam were dating a nice Jewish girl—and she never would—he couldn't help wondering if she was _thinking_ it, so after that he and Willow were much more likely to hang out at the mall or sit in Tommy's car outside Phil and Axel's garage and solve the world's problems.

The Winter Ball was coming up, and Adam and Tommy went together to rent their tuxes, but Willow didn't want Oz to see her dress before the dance, so after Buffy stood her up twice in favor of fulfilling slayer duties, she asked Adam to come with her to help her find one. She complained his first three choices were too low cut, and his fourth choice was too short, but she finally let him put her in a gorgeous purple dress that clung in all the right places and draped at an angle toward her left ankle. She even let him talk her into strappy, heeled shoes with diamante buckles. As they were walking through the mall with the dress bag, a woman at one of the makeup counters spied a ready mark and convinced Willow she needed a new look for the dance.

Adam wasn't going to argue that Willow would look fantastic with more dramatic eyes and a great lipstick, but what she ended up with was more horror show than holiday soiree. Willow blanched when she saw herself in the mirror, but before she could say anything, Adam thanked the woman and whisked Willow away, grabbing a couple remover wipes from the next empty counter they passed.

"Never mind," he said, pushing her into a corner and attacking her face with the wipes. "I'll just have to do it myself. God. Who taught that woman to put on eye shadow? Boris Karloff?"

"I think I looked more like Marcel Marceau," Willow said, batting at Adam's hands and scrubbing at her eyes herself.

"Whatever. I'll make you look gorgeous. Not—I mean, you don't need makeup to be gorgeous." The last thing Adam wanted to do was make Willow feel even more uncomfortable.

"I know you have a thing for eyeliner." Willow gave him a smile.

Adam thought about Tommy, and how it had felt holding Tommy's chin in his hand as he smoothed silver shadow over his eyelids, and the way his lashes had fluttered when Adam told him he could open his eyes, and how gorgeous he was with his makeup smeared after they kissed and Tommy rubbed his face on Adam's neck—

"Yeah," he said. "I really do."

"Just because I let you put makeup on me doesn't mean you're getting in my pants, though."

"Where's the fun in that, then?"

Willow laughed, and let Adam take her home and show her what she looked like with her makeup done right to match her dress. When the night of the dance rolled around, Oz couldn't speak for more than a minute after he saw Willow. Willow's grin made Adam feel almost as amazing as being at a school dance with his boyfriend.

Not that taking a boy to the winter formal was totally without its problems—a girl told them they were gross, but scuttled off when Oz growled at her, and the kid who called Adam "Glambert" that first day he kissed Tommy shoved them and called them fags, though Mr. Giles escorted him out before Adam even had time to retort—but all the static was worth it to be on the dance floor with Tommy, who looked amazing in his tuxedo and fit perfectly against Adam's chest, swaying to the music, no one telling them they couldn't be there. No one who mattered anyway.

It felt magical.

******

Much less magical was the feeling when Adam's mom told him that he and Neil would be spending winter break back in San Diego with their dad. Not that he didn't want to see his dad, because he did. Just—not if it meant not seeing Tommy for two weeks.

"Can't Dad come here?" Adam tried, and even, "Can't we just go for one week instead?" But Leila wasn't hearing any arguments.

Eber drove up to collect them after work on the last Friday of classes, and spent the night, which gave Adam a brief moment of hope that his dad could just stay with them for break after all and he wouldn't have to leave Tommy behind, but the next morning they drove back down to San Diego without even one last chance for Adam to say goodbye.

"What's your brother sulking about?" Eber asked Neil, who was sitting with him in the front. His eyes were on Adam in the rear-view mirror though, like he really cared and wasn't just making conversation.

"He doesn't want to leave behind his stupid _boy_ friend," Neil said.

"Tommy's _not_ stupid!" Adam retorted, even though he knew Neil was just baiting him and it was better not to rise to it.

"All you want to do is like, make out all the time. It's gross."

"A boyfriend?" Eber said. "Is this new?"

Adam heard a tinge of hurt in the words and realized he hadn't really _talked_ to his dad since they moved; he'd been too busy making friends and spending time with Tommy, and coming to terms with the whole vampires-are-real thing.

"Yeah," Adam started, not wanting his dad to think he was trying to keep things from him, but Neil interrupted.

"They've only been like licking each other in the living room for a couple months, but Adam's been all obsessed with him since _August_."

"We don't— Neil, just shut _up_ ," Adam protested, but he could see the flash of a frown between his dad's eyebrows before Eber plastered a hearty smile on his face.

"Sounds like we have lots to catch up on," he said.

"We've all been pretty busy," Adam agreed.

They drove almost ten miles with nothing but the sound of the scratchy mixed tape to break the silence before Neil launched into a story about Sunnydale's jazz band and how the piano player was a senior so Neil might try out next year. Eber asked him all kinds of questions, which broke the tension, and the rest of the drive felt easier.

 

It was weird being in San Diego but in a totally different place. There were only two bedrooms: Eber's, and a smaller one that was clearly usually an office, with trundle beds for the boys.

"You're kidding, right?" Neil said when he saw the beds, which were only about ten inches apart in order to fit in the room with the desk and bookshelves.

"Lots of brothers share all the time," Eber said. "You'll live for two weeks."

"It's great to see you, Dad," Adam said, glaring at his brother while Eber had his back turned for a moment. "This will be fine." Adam set down his backpack.

"What's for lunch?" Neil asked, throwing his bag onto the bed by the wall.

"Let's go see what I have in the fridge," Eber said.

Adam didn't follow them, instead looking at the phone on the desk and wondering if he could get away with calling Tommy before they ate without anyone noticing. He still hadn't come to a decision when his hand reached out and starting dialing of its own volition. Tommy picked up on the first ring.

"I've been hoping you would call!" he said.

Hearing Tommy's voice made Adam realize that a little part of him had been sure that Tommy was glad he was gone, and how stupid that was. "Oh my god, I miss you," Adam said, letting just how _much_ color his words.

They talked for about ten minutes—alternating ridiculous mushy talk that they never said in person with news about the drive, and a show the Dingoes were playing, and how much homework they each had left to do before school started again—before Eber called from the kitchen that lunch was ready. Adam almost said, "I love you," but neither of them had said it yet, and he didn't want the first time to be on the phone. Plus, it was probably too soon, anyway. So he just told Tommy again that he missed him and that he'd try to call him later, and went to eat.

 

Adam and his dad and brother had three days of father-son adventures and catching up, some of which was painfully post-divorce cliché, and some of which was actually fun, but by the end of it, Adam had had enough for a while. When on the fourth morning Eber suggested they go to Belmont Park and Neil agreed enthusiastically, Adam asked if he could just stay at the apartment.

"I've got an essay to write for English," he said, "and I'm kind of tired after the movie last night." They'd gone to the late show and hadn't gotten home until almost one in the morning, so it wasn't entirely an excuse.

"I thought we could go as a family," Eber said.

Adam didn't say anything about Mom and the fact that she was part of the family too, choosing the less inflammatory, "You know how easily I get sunburned places like that, and if I write the essay today I don't have to worry about it for the rest of the trip."

When his dad didn't say anything right away, Adam added, "And maybe just you and I could go do something later in the week; that way we can each have some time alone with you."

"Nothing too fun," Neil said.

Eber laughed. "Okay Mr. Charming. Today your brother and I are going to have bonding-at-the-beach time, and you and I can go do something out of the sun and let your brother go out with his friends this weekend."

"Thanks, Dad."

When the other two took off after breakfast, Adam did actually sit down with his book and his notes, and managed to write about four paragraphs before he decided he needed to talk to his boyfriend. He didn't even think about the fact that Tommy might be sleeping at ten in the morning on a school vacation.

"'Lo?" Tommy said, voice all adorably muffled. Not that Adam mentioned the adorable part.

"Sorry. You were sleeping. I'll let you go."

"Mmm, no," Tommy said. "Dreaming about you. Talk to me."

Adam didn't know what to say.

"Still there?" Tommy rolled over, or did something anyway that made the sound of skin on sheets. Adam got thinking about Tommy's skin on his sheets.

"What are you wearing?" Adam asked, genuinely curious, only realizing after the words were out that it sounded like he was trying to start some corny phone sex.

"Boxers," Tommy said, voice still low and slurred, and okay, maybe phone sex wasn't as corny as Adam thought. His dick certainly thought it sounded like a good plan.

"Was it a good dream?" Adam considered moving from the desk to the bed, but thought that might be weird.

"Fuck, yeah," Tommy said. "You were on top of me, gonna fuck me, and I wanted it so bad."

That was not— Adam had no idea what to say to that. They'd pretty much only done hand jobs so far and Tommy had said he wanted to try giving head, but just talking about it made Adam shoot, and then he was too embarrassed to let Tommy try. "Oh!" he said.

Tommy caught the surprise in his voice. "You don't have to do that or anything. It was just a dream."

"But you wanted me to?" Tommy was so easy about stuff that Adam still worried about. It was like all Tommy wanted was to be with Adam, and being gay didn't even matter.

"So bad. Fuck." Tommy's breath hitched. "I have really fucking good wet dreams about you fucking me, actually."

So, sitting at the desk wasn't gonna work anymore. Adam stood and shucked off his jeans, lying down on the bed, phone tucked under his ear.

"Was that you getting in bed?" Tommy asked, smile in his voice.

"Yeah." Adam eased his hand into his briefs, adjusting his thickening dick. "I like the thought of you having wet dreams about me."

"Bet you'd love fucking me," Tommy said, and Adam heard more rustling fabric. "I'd be so hot and tight around your dick."

Adam whimpered.

"You could open me up first with your fingers, get me all wet, or I could do it if you want to just watch."

It felt like Adam's face was on fire. He couldn't understand how Tommy could just come out with this stuff, how he wasn't dying of embarrassment, but Adam didn't want him to stop. "Have you—" He couldn't finish.

Tommy huffed a low short laugh. "I bought some stuff yesterday. Haven't tried it yet, but I've been thinking about it for a while."

"Oh my god," Adam said, dick going from half to fully-hard at the thought of Tommy fucking himself on his fingers.

"I won't—if you don't want—" There was an edge of nervousness in Tommy's voice.

"Oh no, I want. God, I want to see it."

"I'll totally wait for you to get home."

Adam thought about that. And thought about hearing Tommy do it now, the sounds he'd maybe make, and how it might be less embarrassing the first time if Adam wasn't watching. "No," he said. "Want you to do it now, on the phone."

It was Tommy's turn to whimper.

"I'm hard thinking about it," Adam said. "Already touching myself." Might as well go for this if they were doing it.

"Wish I could touch it for you," Tommy said, then, "Shit. I have to—Hang on. I'll be right back. Don't go _anywhere_. Maybe get naked. I like you naked." That was followed by the sound of the phone being dropped on his bedside table and bedsprings squeaking a little.

Adam wasn't sure how long he'd have to wait, so he tried to keep the phone to his ear while he took his shirt off, and ended up dropping it on the floor so it slid under the bed, which meant he had to get down on his hands and knees. Where he realized that he was on his hands and knees in his underwear in his dad's spare room about to have phone sex with a boy. A boy who wanted Adam to fuck him. Who was about to use his own fingers on himself while he talked to Adam on the phone and maybe told Adam what it felt like. This was both awesome and terrifying and Adam totally fumbled trying to pick the phone up, pushing it farther away.

"I dropped the phone," he called, just in case Tommy was back and wondering where the hell Adam had gone. He heard a giggle coming from the receiver and was glad he'd said something.

"I dropped the phone," he said again once he'd gotten it back to his ear. "I was taking my shirt off."

"I still have that hickey you gave me under my collar bone," Tommy said. "I like to press on it and think about you."

Adam's knees buckled a little at that. "Give a guy some warning," Adam said. "I'm still standing up."

"Well get back in bed," Tommy said, voice thick with amusement. "I'm all ready here."

Blessed with a vivid imagination, Adam could clearly see Tommy's bed, Tommy spread out on it naked, though he'd only been to Tommy's house a couple of times, since his mom was pretty much always home. He did as he was told.

"Ready how?" Adam asked, hoping he didn't sound as nervous as he felt.

"I had to get the stuff, like, the lube?" Tommy said, and Adam realized Tommy was still nervous, too. It made him feel much better.

"Are you sure—"

"I'm sure," Tommy interrupted. "Go slow and lots of lube, the guy said."

Adam felt a twist of jealousy. "What guy?"

"This guy wrote like a thing on the internet. Anyway. I've got the lube. Are we doing this?"

Adam squeezed his dick through his underwear. "Yeah," he said.

There was the squelching sound of Tommy priming a pump top and Adam realized he hadn't just bought a little packet, he'd stocked up. He was serious about this. "What does it feel like?" Adam asked.

"Nothing, yet," Tommy said. "Give me a minute."

While he waited, Adam pushed his briefs down over his thighs and cupped his junk, rubbing his dick a little.

"It's slippery," Tommy said.

When Adam had turned sixteen, his dad had a more in-depth talk about safe sex with him than the one his mother had given him when he was thirteen and they found out he was gay. There was a bottle of _Wet_ and a box of condoms involved, and a pamphlet that had a series of pictures of a twenty-something man rolling a rubber onto a banana. Adam had been extremely thankful that he didn't have to watch his father doing the banana trick, but it had still been pretty much completely mortifying. He'd slunk into his room, condoms and lube in hand, and wondered if his father had been trying to put him off sex forever. He also wondered if his father had maybe succeeded. But a few weeks later he'd pulled the lube out of the drawer where he'd shoved it, and used it to rub himself off. It had definitely been slippery. And good, but not good enough that he could face buying another bottle once that one ran out. He wondered now if Tommy had been embarrassed buying it, or if he'd just picked it up like he was buying a six-pack of Coke.

"Slippery good?" Adam said.

Tommy huffed a small laugh again. "Yeah, good. Not like lotion."

"You've tried this with lotion?"

"Just jerking off. Not—" Tommy took a shuddering breath. "—not this."

Adam pictured Tommy's fingers, long and dexterous, slick with lube, sliding down past his balls to his hole where Adam had always been too shy to touch. "Now what does it feel like?" Adam asked.

"A little weird, but not bad weird." A shifting noise again, making Adam visualize Tommy wiggling down the bed, spreading his legs wider. "Like, things shouldn't go in there? But, like, it kind of makes me want more, too."

It was harder than Adam had expected not being able to watch Tommy's face while he did this, and Adam's fingers itched to feel what Tommy was feeling. Adam reached down and brushed his middle finger against his own hole, but it was closed tight, and pressing on it just made it tighter, so he jerked his dick a few times instead. "How many fingers are you using?"

"Just one right now. A little past the first knuckle." Tommy took two deep breaths. "Yeah. Slow is good. I don't know how you're supposed to fit a dick in here."

"Don't hurt yourself." Adam was envisioning Tommy breaking his ass forever. He did _not_ want that to happen.

"I'm being careful. Thinking about your fingers on me like this, rubbing, moving in and out, and you're kissing me, biting that spot on my neck you like so much."

"I only like it because _you_ like it so much."

"I do like it," Tommy said. "Wish you were here right now."

"I wish, too."

"This is—I really want you inside me." Tommy's breath hitched. "I think you'd—oh, fuck. Oh—"

"You okay?"

A pause, during which Adam tried not to panic, and then, "Yeah. Jesus. That was intense. And, god. If you can do that with your dick, I'm pretty sure I want you fucking me _always_."

Adam wondered how mad his dad would be if he hotwired one of the neighbor's cars and went back to Sunnydale in order to get his hands on his boyfriend's ass. "Do what with my dick?" Adam asked.

"I don't know. I had my finger all the way in, and I was rubbing—" Tommy grunted softly like he was lifting a box that was heavier than he expected. "Damn. Now I can't find it again. But it felt good."

"It's driving me crazy that I'm not there." The need to be with Tommy was lodged in Adam's chest, and he realized that he was practically drilling the phone through his skull in an effort to get closer.

"Yeah. I think I want to do this _with_ you." More sounds of shifting came through the phone. "But I'm totally jerking off right now, and I think you should too."

Adam thought he could probably manage that.

It didn't take either of them long, but Tommy came first, saying, "Come on, baby, fuck. Adam, just do it," his voice all ragged, mashing Adam's buttons, making him jerk his dick faster until he was coming, grunting Tommy's name.

Afterglow via telephone was just not the same, but they did their best, before Tommy said he'd better shower, and Adam decided he really ought to write his essay. This time Adam couldn't stop himself saying, "I love you," before he hung up.

Tommy laughed delightedly. "Good," he said. "I love you too."

It was more than two hours before Adam could even _think_ about starting his essay again. He just lay on the bed, sheet pulled over his hips, smiling about the fact that Tommy loved him.

******

By the end of the first week at his dad's, Adam had spent at least six hours on the phone with Tommy, and four or five with Willow, but it wasn't until Neil asked Eber's permission to call a friend in Sunnydale that it occurred to Adam he maybe should have checked that his dad had a long-distance plan. Fortunately, Eber's response was that it only cost a penny a minute, so Neil was welcome to use the phone. This meant Adam could stop picturing a letter arriving in the middle of January claiming he owed his father seven hundred dollars.

"Can I call my friend when Neil's done?" Adam asked.

"Your boyfriend?" Eber sounded like he was eager to hear more about Tommy, even though Adam had already told him pretty much everything a guy would want his parents to know about anyone he was making out with on a regular basis.

"My friend Willow," Adam answered. "The one whose boyfriend is in the Dingoes with Tommy?" He'd told his father about meeting Willow, too, trying to make up for all the talking they hadn't done since the move.

"Oh, right," Eber said. "Of course. Just don't fight over the phone."

Eber was going to work, having taken extra days off around the standard Christmas holidays so they could all spend time together, but wanting to save some of his vacation days for Adam and Neil's summer break.

"I'm going over to Jesse's house anyway at eleven," Neil said. "He can talk on the phone all he wants."

Eber smiled at his youngest. "Say hi to Jesse for me," he said. "And Adam, try to get some fresh air; don't just spend all day gabbing on the phone."

"I don't gab," Adam retorted, but his dad was right that he was more likely to spend all afternoon on the phone than wandering the neighborhood.

Willow wasn't home when Adam called at eleven fifteen, but she called him back just after twelve thirty. Mindful of his father's words, Adam took the portable phone from the office out onto the balcony, dragging one of the chairs half into the shade of the balcony above.

"Hey," he said. "How's the Hellmouth?"

Willow tsk'd but caught him up on slayer news—Faith and Buffy had gotten into a fight over Buffy's ex, Angel, who was a vampire, except good, except evil, except good, parts of which story Adam had heard before, but none of which he was exactly clear on—and on the progress of her English essay since they'd last spoken two days before.

"How are you not done yet?" Adam asked. "I finished mine in a day, and you're much smarter than I am."

"Oz and I have been—" Willow started, cutting herself off abruptly. "He's distracting, okay?"

"Good distracting? Or like you've been fighting?"

Willow let out a nervous-sounding giggle. "Good distracting."

Adam and Willow had gotten a lot closer in the last week, the phone adding a physical barrier that somehow broke down their filters, allowing them to talk about things they would have been too embarrassed to discuss in person. The last time they'd talked, the day after his phone sex conversation with Tommy, Adam had tried to bring up talking dirty as a hypothetical, but had ended up going into some of the less graphic details about how Tommy wanted Adam to fuck him, and how even though Adam wanted it too, it was sometimes really intimidating that Tommy had more experience with sex than he did. Adam had been out for so long that a big part of him felt like he was the more experienced one, plus he was taller and used to being the older brother type, and he didn't even know all the reasons why, but he knew his own silly expectations made it all worse.

"At least you're exploring the gay sex part of it together," Willow had said. "Oz has done lots more than I have, but all with girls, so nothing with me is new to him."

Having heard some from Tommy about Oz's previous hook-ups, Adam was sure the emotional stuff with Willow was new, but he hadn't succeeded in convincing her of that. They'd ended the conversation talking about how Adam thought he might want to get to home plate with Tommy, but was afraid of not living up to Tommy's expectations, and how Willow wasn't sure she wanted to go that far with Oz or not.

After that conversation, their overshare filters were totally gone, so now Adam felt comfortable asking, "Did you do _it_ , then?"

"Adam!" Willow said, mock scandalized.

"Well, did you?"

"No…"

Adam couldn't think what Willow and Oz might have done that was a bigger deal than going all the way, because all his porn-fuelled imaginings seemed completely implausible for his friend. "You don't have to tell me if you really don't want to," Adam said, trying to convey just how desperately he wanted to know without seeming like he wouldn't forgive her if she didn't stump up the goods.

"It's just—" Willow said. "I don't want you to think I'm, like, weird or anything."

Adam couldn't stop the bark of laughter that prompted. "Will, you have _met_ me, right?"

"Yeah, but—" Willow took a deep breath. "Boys in eyeliner is different from being—" her voice dropped to a whisper— " _kinky_."

Suddenly all the porn-fuelled imaginings were back. "Kinky _how_?" he squawked.

"See? You think I'm a freak!"

"Willow, I think you're _awesome_. And sorry, but now you _do_ have to tell me or I will _die_ of curiosity, and you will have to explain to Tommy how you killed his boyfriend by withholding kinky details." Adam considered that. "Not too many details, though. You and Oz are my friends, and there is probably only so much information I should have about your sex lives."

Willow hedged and Adam wheedled, but just when he was about to give up, Willow burst forth with her story. It was both more and less surprising than Adam expected.

"I like to hold him down," she said. "Like, _really_ holding him. Being in control of when he touches me, kisses me." She lowered her voice. "He likes it too. A lot."

"That's just what I like doing with Tommy," Adam said. "I didn't think it was kinky, though."

"It's totally kinky," Willow answered. "Power play, exploring dominance and submission—I looked it up." Of course she had. "Oz keeps apologizing when he goes all kind of limp instead of pushing back, though, and I can't explain to him that I _like_ that part. It's a turn on."

Adam knew just what she meant about the turn-on part, but couldn't imagine Tommy apologizing for getting the way he did when Adam man-handled him. It was almost like Tommy went to a whole other place sometimes, where the only things he could focus on were Adam's hands and Adam's mouth. He wouldn't hear the phone ring or Neil coming home, or anything.

"What's he apologizing for?" Adam asked.

"I don't know. He's Oz. Maybe he thinks I want him to be all manly or something?"

Adam was pretty sure that Oz didn't think anyone who'd ever met him expected him to be manly in the sense he suspected Willow meant it, but he couldn't think of a way to say that which didn't sound like an insult, so he just said, "Maybe."

"Anyway, it's way more interesting than you'd think, all this power-play stuff," Willow said. Adam was pretty sure he found it pretty interesting already. She told him more about the things she'd found in her research and was in the middle of asking if Adam had ever considered tying Tommy to the bed when she suddenly said, "Dad's home, better go," and hung up. Which left Adam with a very clear picture of Tommy tied to his bed, naked, while Adam touched him anywhere he wanted.

"Divorce fucking _sucks_ ," Adam muttered, and, leaving the chair on the deck, he went inside and took his second shower of the day, not wanting to jerk off in their room when he didn't know when Neil would be home.

******

Eber got the boys back to Sunnydale after dinner Sunday night, and they were back in school Monday morning. Adam missed Tommy at lockers before class because Neil couldn't find his math book in his pig-sty of a bedroom so they were late. Adam managed not to kill him only by dint of the fact that Neil ran to his own locker faster than Adam could chase him. In lieu of Tommy there was a note stuffed through Adam's locker vents:  


  


>  _You better be back. I miss you. See you in English._
> 
> Love T  
  
---  
  
  
Adam spent half of first period grinning.

English was second period, so he didn't have _too_ long to wait, but it still felt like forever. Fortunately, Tommy's locker was on the way from the chem lab to their English classroom, so Adam pushed through the throngs of students in the hopes of meeting Tommy there first so he could actually _touch_ him and not just say "hi" and gaze at him from two rows over. When he turned the corner Adam caught sight of Tommy's shock of blond hair. Tommy saw him at the same time and called, "Adam!" breaking into a run, nearly knocking over a small girl with long black hair on his way past.

Adam thought he might get a hand squeeze, hoped for a hug, but he'd forgotten that Tommy was not at all like other high school boys, so was completely surprised when Tommy _jumped_ on him. He almost knocked Adam over, but Adam managed to throw out an elbow and catch himself on a locker, catching Tommy with his other arm.

"Hey," Adam said softly into Tommy's hair as Tommy buried his face in Adam's neck.

"Mss uffn uch," Tommy said, lips mashed against Adam's pulse.

Tommy was getting heavy, but Adam edged closer to the lockers so he could lean on them and use both arms to hold his boyfriend. "What, baby?"

"Missed you so fucking much," Tommy clarified, pulling away enough to speak before sucking Adam's ear lobe into his mouth.

That made Adam's knees go weak enough that he stumbled, banging Tommy's shoulder into a locker door. Tommy didn't let go, though, instead pulling himself high enough to wrap his legs around Adam's waist, and tightening his grip.

"Missed you too, so much," Adam reassured him, and then couldn't stop himself from cupping the back of Tommy's head and crushing his mouth in a kiss.

"Eeeeeew! Get a room!" came a voice from Adam's right, and _god_ he wanted to _so fucking badly_. Instead he pulled Tommy closer, hand fisted in his hair, deliberately sticking his tongue as far into Tommy's mouth as he could.

"Sorry," he whispered, several seconds later, as he used his grip to pull Tommy back just enough so their noses were almost brushing. "Those people piss me off."

But Tommy didn't say anything; he was looking at Adam's mouth like he wanted to devour it, or crawl inside it, Adam couldn't quite tell. Whatever it was, it was _not_ a look that said, "Please don't choke me with your tongue ever again." It was a look that made Adam's dick stiffen in the heat between Tommy's legs.

"Tommy?" Adam asked when Tommy didn't stop staring.

Tommy shook his head, a quick snap, hampered by Adam's fingers in his hair. "We are _not_ going to English," Tommy said, dropping back to the floor.

"We're not?" Adam was horny, but it was their first day back after vacation. Their long papers were due. They couldn't just cut.

"I _need_ you," Tommy said, hands clenched in Adam's shirt.

Adam couldn't say no to that. He _couldn't_. But his mouth had obviously spent more time listening to his father's lectures about the importance of education than his dick had. "Our papers, though?"

"Fuck." Tommy stepped back, running his own fingers through his hair, making it stand even more on end. "They're twenty percent of our grade, and I'm already kind of sucking in that class. _Fuck!_ " He shoved his thumbs in Adam's front pockets and tugged him into motion. "English only, though. Then I'm fucking taking you home."

Adam was so not arguing with that.

In his excitement about seeing Tommy, Adam forgot he would get to see Willow in English. Her face lit up when the two boys walked through the door. Although the bell was about to ring, people were still milling around greeting friends they hadn't seen over the break, so Willow jumped out of her seat and ran over to give them both hugs. Tommy looked surprised at the greeting and blushed, which made Adam wonder if Willow didn't usually hug him, but felt closer to him than she had before because of everything Adam had ended up telling her on the phone. Before he could worry about it too much though, he looked down and realized that Tommy had some pretty serious wood going on, which Willow probably mashed against her stomach when she hugged him. Willow didn't seem to have noticed.

"I didn't finish my paper until _yesterday_ ," Willow said, giving Adam a significant look filled with her delight at everything she and Oz had done instead. "And it's not very good."

Adam doubted that, but he didn't have a chance to say anything before Willow was off again.

"You were gone for _ever_ , Adam. Which, I've only known you five months, so, kind of weird that it seemed like that."

Tommy's hand crept into Adam's, and he linked their fingers like he agreed with Willow about the forever part and wasn't planning on letting go. Not that Adam wanted him to. But the bell rang then, and they had to get to their seats.

"We'll catch up at lunch," Willow said, heading toward her desk in the second row.

"No," Tommy said.

"No?"Willow turned around to look at them.

Tommy's cheeks went a bit pink. "We… need to be… a where that is else as soon as this class is over."

Willow looked at their linked hands—at least Adam hoped it was their hands, and not the bulges they were both still sporting in their jeans—and then back and forth between their faces. She smiled.

"Tomorrow, then," she said.

English was interminable, but _finally_ they were dropping their papers on Mr. Baxter's desk and filing out into the hall.

"Have fun," Willow called as Tommy and Adam headed toward the parking lot, dodging the hall monitor who was supposed to keep people inside, but was instead busy flirting with the girl Tommy had almost knocked over earlier.

They started out jogging to the parking lot and were almost sprinting by the time they could see Tommy's car.

"Your house or mine?" Tommy asked as he unlocked the doors, breathless with laughing and their run.

"My mom's out all day," Adam said, but it was hard to get past the picture of Tommy all spread out on his bed, fingering himself.

"My parents are in Santa Barbara for the week," Tommy said.

"Your house, then." No question.

******

Friday night, first week back at school finally over, and time to celebrate. Adam wasn't even sure whose party they were at; he'd piled into the back of Oz's van with the rest of the Dingoes, Devon's latest girlfriend, and Willow, and gotten out when they stopped. But there was booze and the music wasn't too bad, and he'd secured a spot on one of the long sofas in the living room, so he wasn't really complaining. Especially because he had Tommy sitting side-saddle on his lap and Willow tucked against his right side, he'd had two cups of something pink which he thought was Cherry Kool-Aid and vodka, and he felt blissed out and horny.

Leaning forward, he kissed Tommy's shoulder, which was enough to get him to glance away from the conversation about a new song for the Dingoes that Tommy was having with Devon, but only long enough to give Adam a wink and a quick peck on the lips. Then he was back to raving about something he wanted to try with the bass line. Adam wanted to ask for a real kiss, but Devon was all enthused and Tommy was leaning forward saying, "Yeah, yeah," only still on Adam's lap at all because Adam had an arm around his waist.

Adam was just drunk enough that he was worried Tommy would turn him down, which would be terrible. Instead, he turned to Willow.

"I want a kiss," he complained. "But Tommy's busy."

"Oh, poor baby." Willow patted his cheek.

Which gave Adam an idea. "You could kiss me!"

Willow laughed.

"No, really. Kissing is fun. Friends have fun together. "

"Not that kind of fun." Willow looked skeptical.

"But it's okay; you're a girl and I'm gay."

Willow laughed again, but when Adam didn't join in, she tilted her chin up and put a hand around Adam's neck. She looked sweet and lickable.

"Yeah," Adam said, lowering his mouth to hers. She tasted like Aveda lipstick, the same brand Tommy had been wearing lately, but she didn't wait for Adam to set the pace the way Tommy did. She tipped his head to get a better angle, sucked on his lower lip for a moment, then licked up behind his top teeth. It was sexy and just shocking enough that it made Adam want to giggle, more out of surprise than amusement, and his grip on Tommy's waist and Willow's arm tightened.

He heard Tommy's surprised laugh at the same time as Oz's drawled, "Hey, can I have some of that?"

Adam jerked back, nearly unseating Tommy, who had to fling his arm out and plant his feet on the floor.

"Tommy was busy," Willow said.

"I would have kissed you," Tommy protested, turning around to straddle Adam's lap, putting an arm around his shoulders.

"I know," Adam replied, white lie totally justified under the circumstances. "But poor Willow was all lonely without Oz."

"The world does get empty without me," Oz said.

"You guys are all crazy," Devon said. "You know that, right?"

Oz handed Willow a Mr. Pibb, but held the plastic cup with Adam's drink in it out of reach. "Do you think you need this?" he asked.

"I'm not that drunk," Adam protested. "Your girlfriend is cute."

"She is both of those things," Oz said. But he relinquished Adam's alcohol.

Tommy decided they'd done enough talking and gave Adam his real kiss. He didn't seem mad, though his grip on Adam's neck was extra tight. But possessive Tommy was hot, so Adam wasn't going to make a thing out of it.

They stayed at the party another hour or so before someone puked on Devon's girlfriend's shoes and she decided she wanted to go home. Oz was a gentleman and offered her a ride, said he'd come back for the others, but they all decided to leave. Adam was spending the night at Tommy's because his parents weren't coming back from Santa Barbara until Sunday.

When he'd asked his mom's permission to sleep over at a friend's house, she'd laughed at him. "I trust you both, and you're near enough to eighteen that I'm not going to say no, but you didn't imagine I was going to think you meant anyone but Tommy, did you?"

Adam had felt his face heat up. "Just giving you plausible deniability," he muttered.

"You're a good son," Leila had said, giving him a one-armed hug.

Now that they were at Tommy's door, though, Adam's mother was the last thing on his mind. Tommy was still trying to get the key in the lock when Adam got his hands down the front of Tommy's pants, embracing him from behind, taking advantage of Tommy's penchant for wearing too-loose jeans and forgetting his belt half the time.

"Adam!" Tommy protested, but he bucked forward into Adam's hand and then ground his ass back into Adam's crotch, humming happily when he felt Adam's hard-on, so Adam ignored him.

When Adam started stroking his dick, though, Tommy grabbed his wrist.

"Key. Door," he said, and Adam let him go. He knew how fumble-fingered _he_ got when Tommy had his hands on him, and the sooner they were inside, the sooner he could get Tommy naked without risking any nosey neighbors telling Tommy's parents he was having sex with a boy. On the front porch.

Adam started unbuttoning Tommy's jeans while he kicked the door shut, quite pleased with how coordinated he was, multitasking like that.

"Oh my god," Tommy said, laughing. "What were you drinking?"

"Want to be drinking _you_ ," Adam said, going down on his knees, tugging Tommy's boxers and jeans to his ankles in one pull.

"Oh my god," Tommy said again, laugh catching as he grabbed Adam's shoulders.

Monday after English they'd fallen on each other as soon as they'd gotten to Tommy's house, all frantic kissing and jerking each other off. But after round three they ate lunch, showered together all slick soapy hands, and while Adam was drying Tommy's legs, he got over his nerves about sucking dick. He could tell he wasn't _good_ at it, but he discovered it wasn't something you could really be _bad_ at either, and he could not get enough of the way Tommy looked, the sounds he made, while his dick was in Adam's mouth.

Tonight was the fourth time this week, and Adam felt like he was actually starting to get the hang of it now.

"Fuck, _fuck_ , Adam," Tommy breathed when Adam didn't even give him a chance to catch his balance before he sucked Tommy's dick almost all the way down. Only half-hard, it was small enough Adam could do it without choking. And the feel of it swelling, getting stiffer on his tongue was kind of amazing. Adam hummed appreciatively, trying to convey _how_ amazing without stopping what he was doing, but it made Tommy jerk his hips, shoving his rapidly growing cock down Adam's throat.

Adam pulled off, gasping, tears in his eyes, and started laughing. "Humming good. Duly noted," he said, cutting off Tommy's apology.

"Yeah," Tommy said, throat and cheeks tinged pink. "It's good."

Adam went back to what he'd been doing.

It only took Tommy another minute or two to come, and for the first time, Adam managed to swallow it. Making a mess of the bathroom floor or Tommy's sheets was one thing, but even tipsy and horny as hell he realized spitting jizz on Mrs. Ratliff's hall carpet was a bad idea.

Tommy dropped to his own knees and kissed Adam hard, clinging to his neck. He started to push Adam backwards like he wanted Adam lying down, but they were only a few feet from the front door so there wasn't room. And the burn to have more of Tommy, to get him squirming and begging, was overwhelming, so Adam pushed back, half lifting Tommy, whose legs were hobbled by his jeans still, so he wouldn't just crash backwards. Tommy whimpered nakedly when Adam followed him down, catching himself on one elbow, his other hand tangled in Tommy's hair.

"Wanna— _god_ , Tommy, the things I want to do to you."

"Yes," Tommy said, not even a second's hesitation. Adam almost came right then.

Pinning Tommy with his chest, Adam got his hands down between them and his dick out of his pants, Tommy's shirt pushed up to his ribs. Adam needed to get off so he could concentrate, too hard and too desperate with Tommy under him, so fucking willing—he couldn't even think.

Maybe thirty seconds of rutting against the soft skin of Tommy's stomach was all it took before Adam was grunting into Tommy's mouth, making a mess after all.

They got out of their shirts and shoes, cleaned up, got some water, and made their way to Tommy's bedroom.

In the week Adam had been back, neither of them had mentioned _that_ phone call, but now Adam said, "Do you still have the stuff?"

Tommy was obviously thinking the same thing, because he didn't have to ask what Adam meant, just reached behind the stereo on the shelf by his bed and pulled out a bottle of lube.

Adam's mouth went dry and his hands started shaking like when he was twelve years old and sang his first solo on stage in front of a paying audience.

"You want to?" Tommy said.

"Yeah," Adam tried, but no sound came out, so he nodded.

Tommy held out the lube and Adam took it.

"How do you—" Tommy hooked his thumbs in his jeans, pushing them down without needing to undo the button. "How do you want me?"

Adam's brain shorted out and he wasn't even sure what Tommy meant. He wanted him naked. On the bed. Naked.

"Adam?"

And Adam realized. "Wanna see your face, so—"

"Yeah," Tommy said. "Wanna see you, too."

Eyes on Adam—who was just standing there, lube in his left hand, jeans zipped but not buttoned—Tommy backed up until his thighs hit the bed, then climbed up onto it, scooting back towards the pillows.

"Are you scared?" Adam asked before he could think about whether or not that was a good idea.

Tommy made a weird sound—sort of a cross between "no" and "duh."

"You're so amazing," Adam said.

"You're so _dressed_."

Adam threw the lube at the bed and pushed his jeans off like they were on fire. When he looked up again, Tommy was running his tongue along his lower lip and holding his arms out in invitation. Adam was more than happy to kiss him, so they made out for several minutes until Tommy was shifting his hips restlessly, digging his nails into Adam's back in a fruitless attempt to bring him closer.

"Want you, Adam. Want you—" Tommy tugged at Adam's wrist, trying to pull his hand down between his legs.

"Okay, baby. Okay—" Adam said, breathless, pulling his wrist out of Tommy's grip so he could fumble for the lube. He'd read so much about the importance of it that he was now terrified of going anywhere near Tommy's ass without it.

"I love you," Tommy said, earnest, like he needed Adam to know this before they got any further. Neither of them had said it again since the time on the phone. Adam knew that it wasn't supposed to mean as much if you said it while you were having sex, but he could tell Tommy meant it.

"I love you too," he said, just as sincere.

Tommy's mouth softened into a smile, corner of his lip caught between his teeth. Adam hadn't managed to find the bottle without looking, so he sat up, keeping one hand on Tommy's hip, needing to be touching him. Tommy really was amazing, legs spread already in anticipation, one hand on his stomach, fingers brushing Adam's, the other on Adam's waist.

"Been thinking about this so much," Tommy said. "It's fucking distracting sometimes."

Adam liked that Tommy found him distracting, but worried again that Tommy's imagination would be much better than Adam could live up to. Which was stupid, because Tommy seemed to like everything Adam did, and this shouldn't be any different. He stopped stalling and got his fingers wet, putting the bottle aside on the table when they were dripping. "Tell me what to do," he said.

Tommy took Adam's hand, smearing his own fingers with the lube, getting both their hands slippery, then pushed Adam's hand between his legs. "Like this," he said, rubbing his own fingers against his hole.

Adam followed his movements, stroking the smooth skin of Tommy's crack, watching Tommy's fingers. Nothing could be hotter than the way Tommy's knees dropped wider as he pushed a finger up under his balls.

"Wanna see you go inside," Adam whispered.

Sliding his middle finger between the two Adam had circling Tommy's hole, he pushed against it, easing it in. Adam meant to look at his face, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from what was happening between Tommy's legs. Tommy pulled his finger out and Adam pushed his own finger in instead.

"So hot," he breathed, pushing harder, needing to feel more of that heat.

"Slow," Tommy warned, his voice low, and Adam stopped, drawing back.

"Not stop. Just—"

Adam stroked more around the rim, gathering up some of the lube that was dripping down toward the bed, using his finger to push it inside.

"Yeah," Tommy said. His fingers came down, rubbing around where Adam's finger disappeared into him. The more he rubbed the more relaxed he got and Adam's finger started moving more easily. Tommy started making noises, drawing Adam's eyes finally to his face. His lips were parted, eyes wide, staring at Adam, until Adam met his gaze, when Tommy let them drop shut. Adam was slipping his finger almost all the way out and pushing it back in when he felt Tommy's touch on his knuckle.

"Stop?" Adam asked, hoping the answer was no, because this felt amazing. So smooth, slick, hot, so _inside_ Tommy, but Tommy said, "No. More," and pushed too, his finger slipping in under Adam's, almost pushing it out before Adam's brain caught up and he resisted, letting the pressure take him back in instead. It was tighter, of course, but hotter too, and the feel of Tommy's finger moving against his made Adam squirm deliciously. They were in almost up to Adam's last knuckle when Tommy gasped, his right leg going stiff where it rested on Adam's thigh.

"Good—ooh, fuck, Adam," Tommy said before Adam could ask what was wrong. "Keep—"

Adam stayed where he was, letting Tommy push his finger up and in, taking over the rhythm when he felt Tommy's wrist trembling against the back of his hand.

The gasps Tommy was making got higher pitched, quicker; he was panting, saying, "Uh, uh, uh."

"What do you—" Adam started.

"More," Tommy gasped, "Another—"

Adam pulled his finger out, Tommy's slipping after it, and pushed back in with two while Tommy's hand went to his dick, pulling on it hard the way he liked it just before he came.

"Up," he said when Adam, overwhelmed, didn't move once his fingertips were wrapped in that tight heat.

Twisting and pushing, Adam fucked his fingers back into Tommy's ass, trying to hit the spot where he'd been before. He thought he wouldn't find it, but then Tommy keened softly, so Adam stayed where he was, rocking from his wrist, breathless, watching Tommy's grip tighten on his cock as he came so hard jizz hit his chin and dripped down his cheekbone.

Adam kept his fingers inside until Tommy started to shift uncomfortably. "That was—" Adam said.

"I know." Tommy brushed at Adam's elbow with feeble fingers.

"Really—"

"Yeah." Tommy brushed again, this time pinching enough that Adam figured out he was trying to pull Adam down to lie beside him.

He wrapped around Tommy completely, mashing Tommy's face into his neck, hooking his legs as well as his arms around him. Adam was hard— _god, so hard_ —but was much more desperate to become one with Tommy skin than to come. It took a minute for him to notice that Tommy was pushing against his chest.

"Can't breathe," Tommy said once Adam loosened his arms. Tommy scooted down a little so his ear was resting on Adam's collar bone. His thigh was between Adam's, and he started rocking it a little. "Help you out there?" he asked, wriggling again so he could get a hand on Adam's dick.

The hand was sticky with half-dried lube, but it was still good enough to make Adam buck up into it. "Later," Tommy said, thumb tracing Adam's cockhead, "I'm going to blow you. Need to get my breath back first."

"Nggnh," Adam said, and added his grip to Tommy's, jerking twice and coming, mostly from the thought of Tommy's mouth on him, something else they hadn't gotten around to yet.

Adam thought they should probably get a wash cloth. Or at least roll over and grab some tissues. But that could wait. This was the best slumber party ever, but Adam was feeling the pull of the slumber part.

******

January went by in a whirlwind of insanity. The town went nuts, and Adam had to stop his mom from joining a gang trying to burn Willow and Buffy at the stake; Willow was constantly running around helping Buffy thwart demon apocalypses; and Adam and Tommy were having more sex than Adam had imagined he would ever get to have in his lifetime, never mind a month. Suddenly Leila was asking what Adam wanted to do for his birthday, and he only had three days left to think about it.

Not that he had to think very hard about his ideal party, but he was pretty sure his mom was neither going to spring for a weekend in a hotel in LA for him and Tommy, nor take Neil and go somewhere else leaving the house empty, so he needed a plan C.

Plan C turned out to be dinner with his parents, brother, and boyfriend on the 29th itself, and a party at the Bronze Friday night with his friends.

Dinner went better than expected: Eber talked to Tommy about music instead of embarrassing Adam by putting Tommy through the third degree or telling stories about Adam growing up; Neil wasn't any more obnoxious than usual, and the book he gave Adam was really cool; Leila didn't try to tell her sons what they wanted to eat, and the food was amazing. Even better, his parents were beyond civil, almost into the friendly zone, but Neil didn't ask once why they'd gotten divorced in the first place.

Good as the family dinner was, Adam had a lot more fun at the party at the Bronze. Zeke, the singer of the band playing, was friends with Devon, and invited Adam up to do a few songs. Adam briefly tried to protest that he shouldn't have to work on his birthday, but Willow and Tommy both saw through that and shoved him at the stage. He sang _We Will Rock You_ , _Love Cats_ , and, for Tommy, _Personal Jesus_. Everyone was cheering when he took his bow and handed the mic back to Zeke. Adam liked cheering. He'd really missed being on stage since they left San Diego, but Sunnydale was not exactly a hotbed of theater, musical or otherwise.

Even better than the actual party was the after party in the back of Oz's van. He had a futon mattress that could be rolled up to serve as a seat or unrolled for lounging, and there were pillows to pad out the rest of the space, so it was more comfortable than you might expect. They were parked under a streetlight around the corner from Willow's house, so everything had a yellow glow, which Adam was pretty sure should make Tommy less attractive, but it didn't. Fortunately, as soon as they got settled in the back Oz started nuzzling Willow's neck so Adam didn't feel guilty about pulling Tommy into his lap and kissing him.

The next thing he knew he had Tommy pinned underneath him and something icy-wet was dripping down his neck.

"Time to come up for air," Oz said, handing him the beer he'd just shocked him with, another in his other hand for Tommy.

"Air is overrated," Tommy opined from his back on the mattress. But he took the proffered drink and propped himself up on one elbow so he could sip it without spilling.

"Not that watching you is the worst thing in the world," Willow said. Much to Adam's surprise she had a beer in her hand too. He'd never seen her drink before. Even in the yellow light he could see her cheeks were flushed.

Oz gave her a sappy smile and pulled her close for a kiss. It was gentle, but possessive in a way Adam couldn't quite name, and to his surprise, Adam found he liked watching it. He didn't love romance movies, the porn he watched didn't exactly feature kissing, and he'd always been afraid of getting beat up if he got caught spying on kids at school making out, so he hadn't had a lot of opportunities to find out whether he was a lip-lock voyeur or not. It turned out he was. It wasn't even as weird watching his friends as he had thought it might be. It was not as good as kissing Tommy, though, so after a minute he got back to that.

This time it was Willow who interrupted them. "That," she said, "is really hot."

Adam looked over his shoulder at her. "Me kissing Tommy?"

"Tommy kissing you." She reached out and poked Tommy's ankle with her toe. "Sorry, staring, but you're all—" Willow flopped her hand around and then shrugged. "You should see it, Adam."

Tommy laughed, biting the edge of his thumb the way he did when he wasn't sure if laughter was the right response, and said, "I'm not making out in my parents' bed just so we can look in the mirror."

"Ew," Adam agreed. "No. Besides. If I'm kissing you I can't watch you anyway, mirror or not."

"You'll just have to take Willow's word for it," Oz chimed in.

That gave Adam an idea. "Or you could kiss him and I could watch," Adam said to Oz.

"Why me?"

"Because Willow likes to watch, too." And Oz hadn't seemed to mind Willow making out with Adam, but Tommy used to have a girlfriend, and Adam didn't want to risk Oz getting jealous and fucking up his relationship with his bass player.

It didn't occur to Adam that making out with his bass player might _also_ make things weird.

Tommy's fingers crept under the hem of Adam's shirt, brushed his waist. "You want me to make out with Oz?"

Adam didn't want to see Tommy so much as _look at_ anyone else ever. He palmed Tommy's cheek, ran a hand down his chest to his hip, and tangled the fingers of his other hand into Tommy's hair. Tommy was _his_. But, fuck, he wanted to see what Willow saw, too.

"Only if you want to."

"I'm not gay," Oz pointed out.

"It would be really hot," Willow said, hand on the side of Oz's neck.

"Kissing boys isn't that different from kissing girls," Tommy said to Oz. "And you touch your own dick, right? It's not like they want us to fuck."

Adam hadn't really thought about Oz touching Tommy's dick, but suddenly he _really_ wanted to see that, too. Watch Tommy from head to toe while he writhed under someone's touch. Maybe hold his arms above his head, still have a hand free to touch his face— "Definitely no fucking," he said, before he could get too carried away with his thoughts.

He felt Tommy's fingers tangle in his shirt. "I'll do it for you," Tommy said. "If you'd get off on watching me."

"Oh god." Adam wondered, not for the first time, if Tommy was actually _real_ , or if Adam had somehow summoned him from the land of amazing boyfriends using the power of the Hellmouth.

Adam could hear Oz and Willow whispering, but not what they were saying. He tried to make out the words, but then Tommy was pulling him close to say right in his ear, "I have something else in mind for your actual present, but this can be part of it."

Tommy had already given him five CDs and some really great eye makeup the night they went out to dinner, which was nicer than the stuff Adam had given him for his birthday back in October, but they hadn't been together as long then, so Adam had figured it was okay. He really hoped his other present wasn't anything Tommy had bought, though.

Adam didn't want to do the gushing thank-you thing, and couldn't think of anything else to say, so he just kissed Tommy, hard and hungrily, trying to show him how grateful he felt for everything Tommy was.

"Okay," Oz said. "It's all rock-and-roll, right?"

Tommy chuckled. "Exactly. Rock-and-roll. You can pretend I'm David Bowie."

"That," Oz said, "is not going to happen." But he was crawling up Tommy's body, so it clearly wasn't a no. Adam rolled so he was out of the way, twisting so his head was on the pillow next to Willow's ribs. He didn't have a great view from there, so he scooted back toward the front of the van, dragging Willow with him. Tommy watched the maneuvering from under Oz's shoulder.

"You two comfy there?" he asked, amusement clear in his voice, even with his face in shadow.

"Yeah, yeah," Adam said, getting Willow tucked in front of him so he could watch over her head and they both had a good view.

"This is ridiculous," Oz mumbled.

"No," Willow said, reaching out to touch the small of his back briefly. "It's really not."

Eyes on Adam's face, Tommy reached up and pulled Oz's mouth down to his. Oz only hesitated a moment before responding. And, yeah. Wow. Adam could see what Willow meant.

As soon as Oz started returning his kiss Tommy's head dropped back as he let Oz take over. Tommy's legs moved with the rhythm of Oz's hips rocking against his stomach and the hand Tommy had on Oz's shoulder fell up by his face as he slid it up to the pillow above his head to where Adam liked to hold his wrists while they were kissing.

"Does he like being held down?" Willow asked, presumably speaking to Adam, though she didn't take her eyes off their boyfriends.

"Yeah," Adam said breathlessly, wanting to do it, but not wanting to interrupt or move to someplace with less visibility.

"Do it, Oz," Willow said, in a no-nonsense voice Adam hadn't heard her use before.

Oz stopped kissing Tommy long enough to glance at her, but whatever he saw in her face kept any protest he might have made at bay. He moved the hand he'd had resting on Tommy's ribs to Tommy's wrist above his head. That made Tommy arch up, something Adam had felt many times but never seen from this angle. He really, seriously, liked it.

"His other hand, too," Willow said, and this time Oz didn't hesitate. He was kissing Tommy harder now, too, grinding his hips against Tommy's.

Adam had an arm around Willow's waist and couldn't help pulling her closer while he watched. As Oz pushed Tommy's hands higher above his head and started kissing down his jaw, Adam leaned down and sucked Willow's earlobe into his mouth. She made a soft noise of pleasure so he teased it with his teeth, stroking up her belly to cup her breast, hoping she didn't mind that his dick was pressed against her thigh. If she minded, it didn't show in the way she twisted around so she could kiss his mouth.

A muffled moan from next to them made Adam pause, look up to see Tommy reaching for Oz's fly, Oz's hand already busy below Tommy's waistband. "Fuck," Adam whispered, and Willow turned back around. She left her hand tangled in Adam's hair, however, and he could tell how much she liked what she was seeing from her grip on the strands.

Adam wanted to ask Tommy what it felt like, wanted to push Oz's hand away and touch Tommy himself, wanted to bite Tommy's lips, grind against his thigh, but he just watched Oz lick his neck, jerk his cock awkwardly, try to move so Tommy could reach his dick more easily.

"Can he bite you?" Willow asked, hushed but eager.

Tommy nodded, made a whimpering noise.

"Bite him, right there, above his collar," Willow directed Oz. "Carefully. No breaking the skin."

As Oz's teeth made contact, Tommy jerked in Oz's grip, gasped, and his hand fell away from Oz's cock. Adam reached for it, twined their fingers together, pulling Tommy's arm to its full reach at his side. Fighting the grip the way he did when he wanted Adam to hold tighter, Tommy started panting, saying, "Fuck fuck fuck," like he was close to coming.

"Damn," Oz said, working his wrist faster, trying to push Tommy over the edge.

Adam could feel Tommy getting there, his arm quivering slightly, his fingernails digging into the back of Adam's hand, and he could see it in the sweat popping up on his forehead and throat. "Come on, baby," he said. "Wanna see you. So fucking gorgeous."

Tommy stared at Adam then, pulling on his hand, and Adam leaned over Willow, probably crushing her a little, to kiss him. When he couldn't stop, he felt Willow wiggle out from under him and sit up.

They were kissing when Tommy came, so Adam missed watching it, but he was absolutely not complaining.

Oz looked a little unsure what to do with the mess on his hand, and Adam wondered for a minute what he would do if Adam licked it off, but this wasn't a porn movie and he really didn't want to lick Oz, so he was just as glad when Willow handed Oz an old t-shirt that had been abandoned in the van at some point. When Oz was done, Adam took it and cleaned Tommy up, still holding tight to Tommy's right hand. The way Tommy gazed up at him made Adam's stomach flutter.

"Wanna walk me home?" Willow asked Oz. "My parents are at a benefit tonight."

Oz just nodded, looking dazed.

"He'll be a while," Willow said, winking at Adam. "If you need the van for anything."

"Yeah," Adam said. Then, remembering his manners: "Goodnight. Thanks for the awesome birthday party."

"My pleasure." Willow opened the van's door and disappeared, Oz in tow.

"Now for part two of three," Tommy said. "Or maybe it's gonna be four parts. Who can tell?" He pushed Adam flat onto his back, straddling his thighs, and started undoing Adam's jeans.

Adam loved giving head. He loved holding Tommy down and making him go pliant and wanton. He loved fingering him until he came, and pulling his hair, and leaving bite marks all over his chest and shoulders. He loved it so much that it never took more than Tommy wrapping a hand around his cock for Adam to come once Tommy was sated. But that did mean he'd never given Tommy a chance to do any of those things to him.

Apparently Tommy was tired of waiting for his turn.

"What's part—" Adam started, but Tommy put a hand over his mouth.

"You don't _always_ have to be in charge," Tommy said, and then proceeded to tug Adam's pants down his hips.

There were maybe two seconds in which Adam considered arguing that he never _said_ he always had to be in charge, but then Tommy pressed a soft kiss to the head of Adam's cock, and all thoughts of arguing fled.

"Oh," Adam breathed, and Tommy licked. And licked again. And _oh god_ why hadn't Adam taken Tommy up on his offers of blow jobs much sooner.

Wanting to see better, Adam flailed above his head for a pillow. Even with his head propped up, his dick was still in shadow, but just the sight of Tommy's head bobbing made the grip of his hand and whatever amazing thing he was doing with his tongue and lips even better.

"Oh my god, Tommy," Adam said, reaching for his boyfriend's hair, needing to touch.

"'S'okay?" Tommy asked.

"Fuck. Yes. Jesus."

Tommy shot him a look that was half pleased, half shy, and got back to licking. Adam _loved_ the licking. And, wow, also the sucking. It was kind of insane having his dick in someone's mouth, with their _teeth_ right there—and Adam knew how sharp Tommy's teeth were—but it was so good, too. And he loved knowing what Tommy was feeling, that edge of discomfort, fear that you might choke, wanting to make it good, and how that made it thrilling and exciting, made you want to push a little harder.

Even better though, the wet, the heat, the flexing of Tommy's neck under Adam's fingertips, squeezing pressure where Tommy jerked him, the _sounds_... Seriously, blow jobs were probably the best thing ever.

"I'm gonna—" Adam remembered to warn Tommy just in time, and Tommy pulled off, came up to kiss him, jerking Adam's dick with the perfect twist Adam loved.

"Happy birthday," Tommy said, wiping his hand on the poor, abused t-shirt.

Adam pulled him close. "Hell, yes."

If that was only part two, Adam wasn't sure he'd _survive_ a four-part birthday present, but he was so willing to try.

"Part three tomorrow," Tommy murmured against Adam's neck as he snuggled in to wait for Oz to come back and drive them home.

******

The next day did not bring Adam the third part of his present, because Tommy's mom decided to clean out the attic and insisted Tommy help. Sunday Adam spent a couple of hours hanging out with Tommy in the front yard selling the stuff the Ratliffs decided they didn't want anymore, but there was no opportunity for them to be alone. Or even to do the flirty eye-fucking thing they liked to do in the cafeteria at lunch that tended to make Xander scowl and Willow smirk. Adam kept his eyes to himself, because he still wasn't actually sure if Mr. and Mrs. Ratliff knew Adam and Tommy were boyfriends. Tommy hadn't said anything about coming out to his parents, but he hadn't said he hadn't either. Adam knew they got along, but your parents being cool with you being in a band and staying out late didn't necessarily translate into being cool with having a queer son living under their roof.

They were over at Tommy's so rarely when his parents were home that Adam hadn't been able to tell from Tommy's behavior, either. He didn't hold Adam's hand in front of them, but even after Tommy knew Leila was all good with the boyfriend thing it had still taken Adam a while to convince Tommy to be affectionate in front of her. The kids at school, who were actually likely to beat them up, no problem. 'Here-have-condoms' Leila, though, Tommy was shy with. That made Adam think maybe Tommy knew his parents wouldn't be okay with him having a boyfriend.

The afternoon of the yard sale Mrs. Ratliff called Adam honey, and she brought him tea when the wind picked up around three o'clock, and she seemed to like him just fine, but it wasn't like she was unused to boys wearing eyeliner around her house, and she'd met the Dingoes, including Oz, so Adam was hardly the most eccentric guy Tommy brought over. No reason to think Adam was a bad influence if she thought he was just one of Tommy's friends.

Adam decided when he had a chance he was going to ask Tommy if his parents knew about the _more_ -than-friends thing.

His chance came on Thursday afternoon when they finally had no homework, no chores, no place they had to be except in Adam's bedroom with Leila at work and Neil downstairs playing Mario Kart with his friend Mark. Not the best circumstances for sex, but fine for conversation.

"So," Adam said, perching on the edge of his desk while Tommy got comfortable on the bed. "Do your parents know you're gay?"

Tommy looked at him, clearly puzzled. "I'm not gay."

The words were ice water in Adam's guts. "You—" He couldn't breathe right. Had Tommy just been faking it this whole time? Had he been wishing Adam were a girl? "You're not?" he managed to choke out.

Clearly Tommy hadn't noticed that Adam was white-knuckle gripping the edge of the desk or that his legs were shaking, because the slightly perplexed expression on Tommy's face didn't change to concern. "I don't think so," he said, all calm and cool. "I mean, I'm not grossed out by pussy. I'm like, totally in love with you and the sex is awesome, but it's not like the sex was horrible with Dee or anything."

"Okaaay," Adam said. Tommy thought the sex was awesome, and he loved Adam. How was he not gay then, exactly?

Something must have showed on Adam's face or in his voice then, because finally Tommy looked at him carefully. "Are you mad?" he asked.

"No." And Adam wasn't mad. Hurt, confused, scared, but not mad.

"You are. You're mad."

"I'm not fucking mad!" Except about being told how he felt.

"It's not like I _need_ pussy or anything. I'm not gonna cheat on you." Tommy sat up, reaching for Adam's hand.

Adam wouldn't give it to him. "I never said you were going to cheat on me. But, like, is this just a _phase_ for you or something?" Adam couldn't control his shouting or the feeling of tears rising up the back of his throat.

"Adam, what the _hell_ are you yelling at me for?" Now it was Tommy's turn to cross his arms and sulk.

"I just—" Adam had no idea how this conversation had gotten so far off track. Except he'd clearly worried it would go this way, because he hadn't just slipped the question about Tommy's parents into casual conversation at school or something.

"You just what? Thought you'd be a total dick? Act like I treat you like you don't matter? What did I do? I fucking call you and come over here all the time, and I drive you around and wanna spend, like, all my time with you— What the hell else do you want from me?"

"That's—"

" _You're_ the one who wanted to wait to fuck me. That's not even on me, so don't say it is." Tommy's voice was shaking, his cheeks pale with angry red spots in their centers.

"Tommy, I never—"

"Fuck you, Adam, okay? Just fuck you." Tommy started to stand, like he was going to walk out.

No way was Adam letting that happen. He half tackled, half lifted Tommy onto the bed, wrapping his arms around him so he couldn't get away. "I fucking love you, okay? I have no idea what is going on with this conversation. But this is not how it was supposed to go."

Tommy put up a fight, twisting in Adam's arms, shoving at his chest, but Adam held on.

"Baby," he said. "Baby, shhh a minute."

"I will _not_ shush. Don't shush me. I'm not a baby." Tommy bit Adam's arm.

It hurt, and not in the good way Tommy biting usually hurt, but Adam still didn't let go. Frantic to keep Tommy here until they weren't fighting anymore, he rolled until Tommy was completely underneath him, trapped by Adam's superior weight and height. With not a little difficulty Adam managed to capture Tommy's wrists and pin them over his head. Tommy snapped and snarled like a caged dog, and the whole thing was so wrong and so ridiculous Adam started to laugh.

" _Fuck_ you, Adam. Seriously. What the hell?" Tommy was fuming.

"Will you listen to me for two seconds?" Adam edged over so it was just his hands and one thigh holding Tommy down, so Tommy could escape if he really wanted.

Tommy lay there placid once he was free to move, though. "Two seconds," he said warily.

"Jesus. Tommy, I'm sorry." Adam was not always good at apologizing, but he figured it was worth it this time. "Okay? I'm sorry. It sounded like you were saying you weren't—I don't know. That you didn't want to be with me. I freaked out. Okay?"

Tommy glared and when Adam didn't continue, said, "You done?" For all he was lying there unmoving, Tommy's words still had fight in them.

"For now," Adam conceded, loosening his grip on Tommy so his fingers were just braceleting his wrists, more comfort than constraint.

"You treat sexuality like it's this bipolar thing. Binary thing. Whatever. Like you're straight or you're gay and there's nothing in between. There are six points on that Kinsey scale."

All the blood in Adam's torso rushed to his face, leaving his shoulders icy and his cheeks on fire.

"I was only saying I'm probably bi, and you totally started yelling at me. I wasn't saying you're just some high school experiment."

Adam couldn't look his boyfriend in the eye, so he burrowed his face into his neck, letting go Tommy's wrists completely so he could tuck his hands under Tommy's shoulders.

"And yes, my parents know, by the way. I'm not ashamed of you."

"I'm ashamed of me," Adam muttered.

"Yeah, well, that's because you're being a freak right now."

"I am sorry," Adam said again, voice muffled against Tommy's skin.

"They thought I was too young to know if I was gay or not, but I reminded them that I'm eighteen and gave them the same Kinsey speech I had to give you."

Silence stretched between them for a minute, but it wasn't angry anymore. When it was clear Tommy was done with his ridiculously short tale of coming out, Adam spoke.

"Were they mad?" Adam shifted so he was resting his head on Tommy's chest and wasn't suffocating himself.

"No. Not really. Mom likes you."

"Glad someone does," Adam said.

"I like you too, asshole."

"Good," Adam said.

While they lay there, Adam, at least, feeling spent from the argument, Tommy stroked Adam's hair soothingly. Adam was usually the one with Tommy cuddled on his chest, and it felt a little weird having that turned around, but he also liked it.

"Is Neil gonna wig if I kiss you while he has a friend over?" Tommy asked just when Adam was nearly soothed to a stupor from the head rubbing.

"Neil never has to know," Adam said, and tilted his face up to be kissed.

******

Adam Lambert was not a pedant, and he was not, as a general rule, prone to bowing to heterosexist definitions either, but he _was_ eighteen, and while he considered everything he and Tommy had done so far as _sex_ , his brain had a line over which one crossed to go from virgin to not-virgin, and it was pretty much the same line defined by teenagers (and most adults) the nation over.

He was also a romantic. Even so, he didn't actually _plan_ to lose his virginity on Valentine's Day, because that seemed so cliché: the seduction dinner, rose petals, a tender deflowering...

It happened anyway, sans seduction and rose petals, which—he and Tommy agreed later—made it totally romantic and not cliché at all.

There _was_ dinner first. At Tommy's house because Tommy's parents were away again. (Adam was starting to like Mr. Ratliff's new job that was willing to expense Tommy's mom on business trips.) They had meatloaf—which Leila made but Adam cooked—plus salad and baked potatoes, which Tommy was in charge of. There were no decorations, but Adam did insist on red candles at the table, and Tommy was wearing his Guns and Roses t-shirt which was mostly red, and they were feeling festive.

After dinner they tried to watch _My Bloody Valentine_ —or rather Tommy tried to watch it and Adam tried his best to distract Tommy with a hand job. His best turned out to be pretty effective, because they hadn't even gotten to the first dead body when Tommy said, "Fuck this damn sofa. Bed's more comfortable," and dragged Adam down the hall by the wrist.

They made out for a while, and got naked, and Adam finished the handjob he'd started in front of the movie, and they made out some more, Tommy writhing and whimpering while Adam sucked hickeys into his neck and rubbed off in the mess of come on his stomach.

"Unf, you're heavy," Tommy complained, shoving weakly at Adam's shoulder afterwards.

Instead of just rolling off him, Adam rolled them both so Tommy was lying full length on top of Adam, which made Tommy squawk and Adam laugh.

"I can be heavy, too," Tommy said, wiggling, trying to squash Adam down into the mattress.

Adam laughed harder, crushing Tommy to his chest in a bear hug.

"Hmmpf," Tommy said, but he settled down, pillowing his head on Adam's chest and idly running his fingers from Adam's shoulder down to his elbow and up again while Adam rubbed his back.

"Gonna fall asleep if you keep doing that," Adam said.

"Mmm hmm."

"Wake up all stuck together."

"You're stuck with me anyway, Lambert," Tommy murmured, and his hand drifted to a stop.

Adam figured they could always take a shower later, and let his own eyes shut.

He fell asleep soundly and woke up to Tommy standing over him eating a pudding pop in a thoroughly lewd and irresistible fashion. He was naked, flecks of white clinging to his chest and stomach, his half-hard dick hanging heavy between his legs, his hair and makeup a mess, and his rounded lips covered in chocolate as he slid the popsicle deep into his mouth and pulled it out again.

"Well, hello," Adam said. "Is this part three of my birthday present?"

Tommy pulled the pop from his mouth but didn't lick his lips, which made it hard for Adam to concentrate on what he was saying. Something about part four, and three would come later. While Adam was still trying to parse the words through his desire to suck the chocolate off Tommy's mouth, Tommy shoved the treat between Adam's lips and started sucking his dick. All higher brain function fled.

Tommy's mouth was cool, and the pudding was slippery, and Adam's stomach lurched downwards as his sleep-soft cock shot to attention. "Mmmmpf," Adam said, which was supposed to mean something like, _Woah, slow down, I just woke up here_ , or maybe _Please do not stop whatever you do, but how the hell am I supposed to eat this popsicle while you're doing that,_ or possibly, _Fuck, fuck, fuck, I love your mouth._ Whatever it meant, though, Tommy took it as encouragement, and started sucking harder.

Adam was fully planning on just throwing the thing in the garbage can next to Tommy's bed—he had to _breathe_ and a mouth full of frozen pudding was not helping—but Tommy saw him and grabbed it back, using it like a paint brush on Adam's most sensitive parts.

"Argh!" Adam said, flailing and trying to leap away from the cold, but Tommy had a grip on his cock, and a devilish look on his face, and Adam wasn't going anywhere.

Once he'd covered the top half of Adam's dick with chocolate pudding, Tommy bit the rest of the pop off the stick.

"You're evil," Adam said, trying to relax his ass cheeks which were still clenched in shock.

Tommy grinned. Evilly. Of course.

Adam knew what was coming, but it still made him squeak when Tommy started sucking him again with an icy cold tongue. His poor dick didn't know what to do—flinch from the cold or swell in the stimulation—and Adam found himself digging his heels into the bed, gripping the sheets in his fists, thrashing his head from side to side, his hips rigid under Tommy's palms.

Then, just when the pudding pop was gone and Tommy's mouth started to warm up, Tommy pulled off and stood.

"What?" Adam squeaked incredulously.

"Shower time. You're all sticky." Tommy didn't even wait for Adam to answer, just skipped out the door toward the bathroom.

"One of us is going to die," Adam grumped, but he dragged himself off the bed and followed.

And, lo, the shower was a _fantastic_ idea.

Hot, soapy hands were a perfect counterpoint to iced chocolate lips, and Tommy's skin all slippery under his palms was almost as good as the hot friction on his dick. Plus, he did get a measure of revenge pinning Tommy up against the cold tiles and withholding the shower spray. Though the way Tommy was moaning and grinding up against him, Adam was pretty sure it wasn't exactly torture.

Still seeking payback, Adam started teasing at his hole, brushing his fingers over it, pressing up behind Tommy's balls, back to brushing again, but not going inside. When Tommy was panting and shifting his hips trying to guide Adam's fingers, Adam said, "Do you have any condoms?"

Tommy blinked, taking a moment to come back from wherever Adam's fingers sent him. "I went to the clinic while you were in San Diego."

Adam didn't know that boys could get condoms at a clinic. It made sense, though. "How many did they give you?"

Shy, Tommy nudged his forehead against Adam's sternum. "I got _tested_ at the clinic." He rubbed one cheek against Adam's nipple briefly.

Adam wasn't sure that should sound like the most romantic thing ever, but it did. He tilted Tommy's chin up so Tommy could see the sappy grin on his face. "You did?"

Tommy's answering smile was wry. "Did you know they can't test for everything with your blood? There were _swabs_."

That made Adam shudder.

"I wouldn't have let you suck me if I wasn't sure I was clean."

Adam hadn't even thought about that. He'd wanted Tommy's dick in his mouth so he'd sucked it. Leila's lectures had focused on actual fucking.

"My mom would probably kill me for having sex without a condom."

Tommy chuckled. "Adam, I love your mom, but I kind of hope you don't tell her quite that much about our sex lives." Clinching his arms more tightly around Adam's waist, he added, "Besides. She'd kill you for having unsafe sex. We're both clean and I can't get pregnant. It's totally safe."

Adam thought for a minute about what it might feel like to be inside Tommy without anything between them.

"What the hell are we still doing in the shower?" he said.

 

Fingering Tommy was different when Adam knew it was just the prelude for his dick. It was hard not to just shove all his fingers in at once—now that they were doing this he wanted to _do_ it—but part of him wanted to go extra slowly, hung up on the knowledge that first times hurt, and wanting, badly, to not hurt his boyfriend.

Clearly the second instinct was winning, because Tommy reached down and grabbed his wrist and _pushed_ Adam's finger in farther, saying, "Don't fucking _tease_ me."

Adam stopped teasing.

Tommy was on his back, left leg spread wide, right hooked over Adam's thigh where Adam was propped on one elbow beside him. With his right hand he was pulling his balls up against his dick and his left was gripping his thigh right by where Adam's hand moved. Adam had a perfect view down his body, and with a flick of his eyes could watch Tommy's face, his eyelids fluttering shut as Adam added a second finger, his mouth opening on a silent moan as he added a third. They'd done this more than a dozen times, at least half of those in almost this exact position, but Adam had never watched the flush creep up Tommy's chest to his face, or paid attention to the way his toes clenched and released.

"You are so fucking beautiful," Adam breathed.

Tommy's flush deepened, and his mouth quirked. "Stop stalling. See if you can—" His breath hitched as Adam twisted his fingers fractionally deeper. "See if you can fit another one."

Adam had never tried four fingers. Three always seemed like plenty. Tommy was the one who was about to have Adam's dick up his ass, though, so Adam figured he could be in charge of how many fingers they used first.

Easing his fingers out, he sat up, moved to kneel between Tommy's legs, and while he was there, got more lube. Tommy used his hands to pull his thighs apart, and was watching Adam intently, lower lip caught between his teeth. His hole was shiny wet, opened easily when Adam pushed back in with two fingers, gave to three. Adam went in all the way, rocking back and forth, rubbing at Tommy's hole with his knuckles, and then pulled out far enough to get his pinky in.

"Oh, god, oh _god_ ," Tommy moaned, rocking his hips, pushing Adam deeper inside. "So fucking—" His right hand flew to his dick, cupping everything up tight against his belly. "Fucking _fuck_ me already."

Adam knew better than to ask if he was sure.

The hand he pulled from betweenTommy's legs was slick with lube and Adam jacked his dick with it while Tommy watched.

"Okay, okay," Tommy said impatiently.

"Okay," Adam agreed, wiping his hand on the sheet and leaning forward to plant a kiss on Tommy's mouth.

Everything was so slippery Adam had trouble getting his dick to stay in the right place long enough to push in, but they finally got there. He had to push a lot harder than he expected, and when the head popped past his resistance Tommy sucked a harsh breath through his teeth.

"Too much?" Adam asked, trying not to move, or panic.

"It's—jesus." Tommy took a shuddering breath, and another, and the vise around Adam's dick loosened. "Hurts, but keep going," Tommy said, clutching Adam's forearm with the hand not holding tight to his own cock.

Adam's head was telling him to pull out if Tommy was hurting, but everything else listened to Tommy's words and kept moving, driving him into that tight heat. Tommy was gasping, his grip on Adam's arm practically grinding the bones together, but he was lifting his hips into Adam's forward motion, and Adam didn't think he _could_ stop.

The slide out was smoother than the first slide in, and Tommy's grip relaxed. "Lemme—" Tommy said, halting Adam's motion, and Tommy grabbed his knee and pulled it up.

Like a key, that seemed to open things up, and Adam slid forward again with much less resistance. This time Tommy's moan came from his chest not his throat.

Fucking was not as easy as porn stars made it look, and Adam felt uncoordinated as he tried to figure out a rhythm. He was thrusting shallowly, scared of pulling out completely and putting Tommy through any more pain, but his dick wanted more friction, wanted him to fuck harder, and Tommy felt _so_ damn _good_ that it was almost impossible not to listen to that. He kissed Tommy again to distract himself, pressing his hips to Tommy's ass, reveling in the clinging heat.

Tommy kissed back, sucking Adam's tongue like it was sustenance, releasing his knee to grab Adam's neck. That reminded Adam that in movies the top often put the bottom's legs over his shoulders. He wondered if that would make things easier.

It was awkward getting there, but once Adam got Tommy's legs up, the fucking went more smoothly. He had a much better angle, and could roll his hips instead of trying to jerk them forward and back. Tommy's ass was fucking amazing, nothing like anything Adam had felt before, even better than he'd imagined. He was staring up into Adam's face, mouth open, jaw working slightly with each thrust, making little noises that Adam wished he could record and keep forever. Adam wanted to talk to him, tell him how amazing he was, how good this felt, how much he loved him, but there were no words, only sensation, motion, the act of breathing.

And then it was too much, and Adam arched back, his orgasm shaking him from knees to neck.

Somehow he ended up on his back next to Tommy instead of lying on top of him, which was just as well, because even Tommy had limits to his flexibility. Adam knew Tommy hadn't come, and he should say something about that, _do_ something about that, but he felt like all the muscles in his body had turned to clay.

"Yeah," Tommy said.

"Yeah?" Apparently there _were_ words.

"Yeah, okay."

With a great deal of effort Adam turned to face Tommy, who was still on his back, legs spraddled, one hand splayed at his side, the other squeezing his dick. Adam wasn't sure if he meant _he_ was okay, the sex was okay, or just general okayness was occurring.

"We can totally do that again," Tommy clarified.

"Right now?" Adam was all about doing that again, but he was going to need a minute. Or an hour.

"Not right now." Tommy started slowly jerking his dick. "Possibly not even tomorrow. But again. Definitely."

Now that Adam had started moving it was easier to get a hand up to help Tommy with the whole jerking off thing. Except once he touched his dick he wanted to taste it, so he kept rolling, maneuvered so he could suck Tommy off. While he let Tommy fuck his mouth, Adam thought about fucking Tommy's ass, and by the time he was swallowing he was half hard again. But it was just a pleasant sensation, not anything he felt compelled to deal with, so he was happy to nestle it against Tommy's stomach as he cuddled him.

"Guess I'm sleeping in the wet spot," Tommy murmured when Adam was almost asleep.

"'F'you can move I'll do it," Adam answered, words breaking on a yawn.

"Mmm," Tommy said. "Move tomorrow."

"Sounds good." And then Adam was out, Tommy in his arms.

******

Chemistry was not Adam's favorite subject, so it was easy to find things to do that weren't studying for his midterm. As a result, he got a C-minus. He didn't really care, but Mr. Grogan's policy was to call your parents if you got anything lower than a C, and Adam's mother _did_ care. Fortunately—as she informed Adam after telling him how disappointed she was that he hadn't told her himself and she had to get a call from his teacher—Mr. Grogan also had a policy that meant you could add a letter grade to your midterm score if you came in for an extra lab after school every day for a week.

Adam didn't see how this was fortunate at all, because he doubted his mother could come up with a punishment he wanted to do less than an extra five chem labs, given she was more about extra chores and TV restrictions than groundings or allowance docking. Either way, he didn't have a choice. Leila told Mr. Grogan Adam would be there, so he was expected to be there.

"I would have helped you study," Willow said Monday at lunch when Adam was complaining.

"I would have too," Tommy said.

"Didn't you get a D in Chemistry?" Oz asked.

"You did help," Adam told Tommy, lifting his chin with one finger and kissing his nose. "A lot. Just not with studying."

"Chemistry is stupid, anyway," Tommy insisted.

Adam agreed, and he didn't really want to talk about it anymore, so he changed the subject.

After lunch Adam had History with Tommy, but then they were separated for sixth period. They agreed to meet at Adam's house after the make-up lab because Tommy had some errands to run after school.

When Adam got home, Tommy was sitting in the kitchen with Leila. The smile he gave Adam seemed forced, and he insisted they stay downstairs and eat a snack when usually he would want to go up to Adam's room, even with Adam's mom there.

"What's up?" Adam asked, but it was his mom who answered, not Tommy, and her queries about how the lab went didn't answer Adam's question at all.

After a plate of nachos Leila whipped up with some left-over chili, Tommy finally shrugged and said, "Okay," when Adam asked again if he wanted to go upstairs.

"Don't have too much fun," Leila teased as they headed for Adam's room. Adam didn't think that was going to be a problem.

"What's up?" he said again once they were in his room with the door closed.

But Tommy just said, "Nothing." He'd left his guitar last time he was here and he went and got it, sat on Adam's desk chair looking out the window and started noodling around with a song Adam didn't recognize.

Two could play at that game, Adam figured, so he got out his English book and lay down on the bed to read.

They were doing a poetry module for March, and as Adam read, the music Tommy was playing wove in and out of the words. Not even really noticing he was doing it, Adam started singing along. Tommy stumbled for a moment and Adam almost stopped, but the rhythm picked up again so he kept going. He ended the final stanza on a plaintive high note and Tommy brought his playing to a close with a flourish.

Adam thought he might get a smile, but Tommy looked at him sadly. "See?" he said quietly. "We're fucking _good_ together."

It was impossible to sit there and just look at the dejection on Tommy's face, so Adam went to his knees at Tommy's feet, resting hands on his thighs.

"Of _course_ we're good together. Tommy, you're scaring me. What the hell is wrong?"

"You could have told me," Tommy said. He was still looking at the guitar, but at least he was saying something.

Adam was beyond mystified. He couldn't think of a single thing he hadn't told Tommy in at least six months. "Could have told you what?"

Tommy plucked the G string with the edge of his thumbnail, patted it still and then plucked the A.

"Tommy?"

"About New York, okay? You could have told me you're _leaving_."

If his parents were moving him again, Adam was going to have to kill someone. Or tell them he was eighteen now and wasn't going. But this was the first he'd heard about moving to New York. "What?" he asked.

"You never said you wanted to be a Broadway star."

"I—" It was true that Adam had dreams of singing on Broadway one day. But it was the singing that he loved more than anything. And watching the Dingoes play all these months, he'd started wondering if Broadway was the stage he really wanted. Mostly, though, he hadn't been thinking much about the future at all; he was too busy dealing with the present.

And suddenly he realized what this was about.

"Did my mom tell you I got into NYU?"

Still looking down, Tommy strummed the guitar again, and this time it was Adam's hand that stopped the strings.

"Did she tell you I was _going_ to NYU? Because I never said that. Not to them, and not to her."

Tommy finally raised his eyes. "She showed me all the stuff, and like what classes you would be taking and everything."

Adam's fingers tightened on Tommy's thighs, an angry clench, but it wasn't Tommy he was mad at, so he made his hands relax.

"Mom and I did the whole college tour thing last year. We both loved New York, and I thought that was what I wanted to do. A lot of it was anything to get out of San Diego."

Tommy huffed incredulously and snapped, "But life on the Hellmouth is so great you want to give up the Big Apple? Yeah. That makes sense."

Okay, maybe Adam was a little mad at Tommy. He pushed himself to his feet and strode across the room. "Yep," he said. "That's exactly it. The _Hellmouth_." It was awfully rich, Tommy getting pissed off at Adam for freaking out when Tommy said he wasn't gay, but feeling totally justified freaking out when Adam's mom told him something that wasn't even true.

"Well, what, Adam?" Tommy set his guitar down carefully and spun in the chair to face him. "You expect me to believe that you're just giving up your dreams of being a big star to stay someplace where you can turn around at any moment to find your best friend is actually an evil vampire girl from another dimension?"

" _You're_ my best friend," Adam said.

"I thought I was your boyfriend."

Adam pressed his fingers to his forehead tiredly. "You _are_ my boyfriend. _And_ my best friend." Then before Tommy could say anything, "But I know that's not your point."

"I don't even know what my point is," Tommy said, pushing himself from side to side in the chair with his toe.

"Well _my_ point is that my _mom_ is not who you should be going to for information about _me_."

"Sorry," Tommy muttered.

He didn't sound particularly convincing, but Adam wasn't in the mood to fight about something so stupid, so he didn't call him on it. "C'm'ere," he said instead, walking back to Tommy and holding his hand out.

Tommy took it and pulled Adam over to the bed, curling up in Adam's arms, face buried in his chest, thigh wedged between Adam's legs. They didn't talk, or kiss; Tommy just clung tight around Adam's ribs while Adam stroked his hair and back.

"Sing?" Tommy said after so long that Adam had been wondering if he'd fallen asleep.

Adam wasn't sure what Tommy wanted to hear, so he started humming the tune Tommy'd been playing on the guitar, adding the words from the poem where he could remember them, just vocalizing when he couldn't. That morphed into a half-remembered theme song from a TV show he'd watched when he was little, and that into a sort of medley of songs off Ziggy Stardust. Lying on his side, chest constricted by Tommy's arm and the press of his forehead against Adam's sternum, Adam was not singing at his best, but the effort eased the frustration he was feeling at his mom and Tommy and the stupid _Hellmouth_ this town was built on. The choir at Sunnydale was better than nothing at all, but they only performed once a year, so Adam hadn't been on stage except for his birthday since they'd left San Diego. He needed to do something about that.

Before he could ask Tommy what he thought of maybe trying to get a gig, just the two of them, at the Bronze, Tommy sat up enough to peer over Adam's shoulder, and swore.

"Mom's gonna kill me. I told her I'd be home with her stuff before five. It's almost six."

"Oh," Adam said, trying not to sound too disappointed. He'd been hoping Tommy could stay for dinner.

Pecking him on the lips, Tommy said, "I'll see you tomorrow at school."

That was very different from _Call you later_.

 

Tommy wasn't totally ignoring him at school the next day, but he wasn't himself either. There were no sneak-attack cuddles, or notes in Adam's locker, and Tommy pulled away first every time Adam kissed him. Usually Adam was having to push Tommy off in order to get to class on time.

"What's going on with you two?" Willow demanded in hushed tones at lunch time when Tommy sat on the other side of the table from Adam, his back to him, talking to Oz.

"I wish I knew," Adam answered.

He didn't find out that day; Tommy passed him a note in history that said he had to help his cousin out after school and he'd see Adam in the morning at lockers. It was just signed 'T', no 'love', no 'xx'. When Adam tried to ask him about it after class, Tommy just tip-toed up to peck him on the corner of his mouth and said, "Gotta run."

When there was no sign of Tommy at school in the morning, Adam spent the whole of first period scared he was going to puke. It didn't help that they were doing experiments with sulfur, which caught in his nose and burned his lungs. He ran to English, not even stopping at his locker to dump his chem book or grab his second period folder.

No Tommy.

Adam lasted eighteen minutes before he asked Mr. Baxter for the bathroom pass.

"You just got here, Mr. Lambert." Baxter chided, but he held out the pass, so Adam didn't see any reason to answer. Scrabbling in his pockets for change, he ran for the pay phones.

Tommy's mom answered on the fourth ring, just at the point Adam was sure he was going to get the answering machine and possibly start crying in the middle of the hall.

"Mrs. Ratliff," Adam said, keeping his voice as normal as possible. "Is Tommy sick?"

"Oh, no, dear, he's in LA."

Adam's mind flew immediately to Dee. Tommy had decided that he liked fucking girls better than letting Adam fuck him and had gone back to his ex-girlfriend. "LA?" he squeaked out. He didn't sound remotely normal.

But Mrs. Ratliff didn't seem to notice. "He went up yesterday to help his cousin move. They called about midnight; there had been all sorts of problems and they weren't nearly done. We decided he should just stay until this afternoon. I thought he might have called you this morning, but I guess they slept in. You boys, you're always sleeping if you can get away with it."

It all sounded very reasonable. If only Tommy had been actually _speaking_ to him when he left.

Somehow Adam managed to thank Tommy's mom and hang up without punching the wall or jamming the receiver through the kiosk. Though he had completely destroyed half the bathroom pass, which was made of laminated tagboard and vulnerable to clenched fists.

When he got back to class, Willow took one look at him and started scribbling frantically on a scrap of paper. A minute later it landed on his desk. _Library after this,_ it said. _It will be okay._

She dragged him down to Mr. Giles' domain when the bell rang, told the librarian it was nothing he needed to be concerned about, and pulled Adam up into the stacks. "Tell me everything," she said.

So Adam did. He started with Leila telling Tommy he was going to NYU even though he wasn't, backed and filled with the fight about whether or not Tommy was gay, and finished up with Tommy's weird behavior and sudden trip back up to Los Angeles. The only thing he left out was singing while he held Tommy in his arms, because that felt too personal. It was just for him and Tommy.

"He didn't have to be such a jerk about the gay thing," Willow said when he was done. "But really, Adam, bisexuality _does_ exist."

"He wasn't that much of a jerk."

"He kind of was. At least the way you tell it." Willow rubbed Adam's knee soothingly. "But whatever. What's going on with him now? You said you weren't decided about New York, so what's his problem?"

Adam still had no idea.

But he was really sick of waiting to find out. Through sheer force of will, and because Mrs. Ratliff said Tommy wouldn't be back until afternoon, Adam managed to stay at school through his make-up lab. But from there he went straight to Tommy's house. Tommy's car was parked out front.

Adam chipped the nail polish off half his left thumbnail (a bad habit he'd picked up from Tommy without even noticing) waiting for someone to come to the door. When it opened it was Tommy standing there, wearing nothing but jeans that were totally falling off his hips, his hair wild and wet like he'd been toweling it dry before answering the bell

Want made Adam's thighs clench and his knees go rubbery and the certainty that he'd never have that again made his vision go. He grabbed the door frame for support and closed his eyes.

The next thing he knew he had a shower-damp Tommy Joe clinging to him like a limpet, falling over himself with apologies.

This time Adam was not up to multi-tasking, and they ended up on the floor of the front hall with the door wide open. Tommy sat on Adam's legs, arms around his neck, kissing his face and throat, still saying he was sorry, and he was stupid, and something about setting his alarm but it didn't go off.

Adam finally got him to shut up by grabbing his hair in both hands and sealing Tommy's mouth with his tongue. That lasted until Adam realized Tommy was shuddering with cold, not just desire, at which point he got them up, got the door shut, and Tommy down the hall where he could bundle him under the covers. With Adam, who wasn't going anywhere until he'd figured out what the hell was going on with his boyfriend.

Before that happened there was more kissing, and Adam getting out of his shirt, because that was the best way to warm Tommy up, and, well, he wanted to, and there was some groping and cuddling, and finally Tommy said, "Karl told me I was an asshole."

"I could have told you that and you wouldn't have had to drive to LA," Adam said. But he had one hand down the back of Tommy's jeans and was caressing the back of his neck with the other, making sure Tommy knew that didn't mean Adam wanted him to go anywhere.

"You can totally go to New York," Tommy said. Before Adam could protest that again, he added, "And if you want, maybe I could come with you."

"You would do that?" Adam was grinning so hard his cheeks hurt immediately.

"That's the other thing Karl told me. Why should I have to stay in Sunnydale? Just because I'm not going to college, doesn't mean I have to stay here forever."

"You're not going to college?" That was— It had never occurred to Adam that Tommy had no college plans at all.

"It's not really my style." Tommy shrugged. "I want to play music. Not go sit in theory classes or fucking study calculus or something."

Adam's parents had presented him with many options for his future. Not going to college at all had never been one of them.

"But the thought of you going off to New York, leaving me here—" Tommy sucked for a moment on the ridge of Adam's collar bone. "I don't want to stay here without you."

There had to be more to this story, but relieved that Tommy's freak-out seemed to be over, and with more to contemplate than he felt up to thinking about with a half-naked boy in bed with him, Adam decided that making out was better than talking more about college. At least for the time being.

The sound of the front door closing woke them up about an hour later.

"Shit," Tommy muttered. "Wanna go get some food or something? Don't really feel like hanging out with mom right now."

Since Adam had eaten the grand total of two bites of a fruit roll-up at lunch, food sounded perfect.

Over pastrami sandwiches Adam asked Tommy if he wanted to play guitar for him if they could get any gigs.

"Are you kidding me?" The look on Tommy's face was everything a guy might hope to see when he popped the question. " _Fuck_ , yes."

"I have some songs," Adam said. "They're not really—" He poked at his potato chips. "Maybe you want to work on them with me?"

Tommy kicked his foot. "Of course I do, idiot. Have you missed me trying to get you to sing at every opportunity?"

Adam raised an amused eyebrow. "I haven't missed you trying to get me to _blow_ you at every opportunity."

"That too." Tommy grinned, and prodded Adam's foot again, this time leaving his toes resting on Adam's boot. "But I fucking _love_ your voice, man. You should _totally_ be using it. I'm serious."

"Okay, then. Let's do it."

Too excited to sit around and eat any more, they got their sandwiches wrapped to go and went back to Adam's house, where Adam got out all his old folders and notebooks filled with scraps of lyrics and music. He was kind of amazed at how serious Tommy got. Not that he thought Tommy didn't care about music, but it was fascinating to see how differently he approached writing versus fooling around with Depeche Mode and Metallica covers.

By nine thirty they had two of Adam's most finished songs cleaned up, re-arranged, and about a thousand times better than Adam had been able to make them on his own.

"You're _really_ good at this," Adam said.

"We're a good team," Tommy corrected. "I can never sing stuff right on my own to see how the words should go."

"We're _so_ a good team," Adam agreed.

 

Adam waited until the weekend before he talked to his mom about college. He was mad enough before then about her telling Tommy he was going to NYU that he suspected he'd turn it into a yelling match, and he needed her to know that this was a mature and rational decision.

Even though he stayed calm, she didn't quite agree with the mature and rational part.

"What do you mean you're not going to college?" she said, voice raised.

"I'm going to sing," Adam said, staying totally calm.

"You can sing in school. That was the point." Lelia tried to match Adam's tone—thank you psychology classes—but she wasn't very successful.

"I don't want to sing in school. I want to go to LA."

Leila breathed. And narrowed her eyes at him. And breathed again. "Call your father," she said. "Talk to him about it." She went into the kitchen and started banging around.

Adam figured there was no point putting off calling his dad. Might as well do it while he was already upsetting people.

Eber was much calmer than Leila, but Adam suspected that was because he didn't think Adam would keep arguing after he said, "You're going, and that's final."

But, "Yeah. No," Adam said. "I'm not."

That got him a long-suffering sigh and, "Let me talk to your mother." Adam handed over the phone and walked out the door, headed over to Tommy's house.

The next day Leila tried pushing the west-coast schools Adam got into instead of continuing her New York pleas, but he really wasn't any more interested in Riverside or Santa Cruz than he was in anywhere else. He hadn't gotten into UCLA, and he tried using that as an excuse—that was the school he really wanted, he'd take a year off and try again—but his mom wasn't buying it.

"Your dad isn't willing to just give you your college fund, you know. It's for college, not for bumming around in Los Angeles."

Adam hadn't expected to get all of it, but he had been hoping for at least what they'd been going to give him for room and board. "Fine," he said, though. "I don't _care_. This is what I want to do. If you really wanted me to be happy you'd let me make my own decisions, not live the life _you_ want for me."

Leila actually _laughed_ at that. "Oh, Adam. Please."

"Please yourself," Adam retorted, wishing he had a better comeback. Fortunately the phone rang and he could answer it instead of waiting for his mom to laugh more.

"Guess what?" It was Willow.

"What," Adam said, rather more sulkily than he intended.

"Oz got you and Tommy a gig at the Bronze. Monday night."

All Adam's sulk was gone. "What? How?"

"The owner totally owes him a favor." Willow lowered her voice to a whisper. "Werewolf thing."

Adam couldn't really imagine what werewolf favors might happen, but that definitely fell into his rather extensive _don't ask_ category.

"I've got to call Tommy," Adam said.

Willow laughed. "You do that."

Tommy had just heard from Oz and he was as over the moon as Adam. "We've hella gotta practice, though," he said. "Do you want to come over, or should we do it at your house?"

Adam glanced at his mom who was sitting on the couch looking at him. "Your house," he said.

"I'll come pick you up."

They started off in Tommy's room, were banished to the Ratliff's garage at 9:30, and practiced until midnight, when Mr. Ratliff came and told them he appreciated that they were trying to be quiet, but they were not succeeding and it was time for Adam to go home. Adam was feeling confident about the two songs they'd worked up Tuesday, and not bad about the three additional songs they gotten done during the week. He'd originally envisioned the songs with a whole band behind him, and he wasn't sure he loved them pared down to voice and guitar, but that was what they had to work with, so that's what they were doing.

"It'll be awesome," Tommy said, two fingers on Adam's jaw, after they'd kissed goodbye in the car out in front of Adam's house. "Don't worry about it."

"I'm not worried," Adam said, surprised that it was actually the truth.

 

The gig was amazing. Willow was there with Oz and the rest of the Dingoes, and Buffy, Xander and a lot of other kids from school, too. There was the usual crowd there to play pool and ignore the music, but Adam thought more people were into it than there were a lot of nights. And it was totally different singing his own songs, singing with Tommy, than it was getting up and singing a few covers with some guys he didn't even know on his birthday. It was a drug.

And with an audience there he could totally hear how the songs were supposed to sound—what they could do with them if they got a band together. He'd performed in front of much larger audiences, been on stage longer than their forty-minute set, but he'd always been doing what a director told him to, speaking and singing someone else's words. This was a million times better.

Everyone wanted to buy them drinks afterwards, but Adam said, "We'll be back. Just need to put some stuff in the car," barely giving Tommy time to grab his guitar before he was dragging him out to the parking lot.

"What—" Tommy said, but stopped asking questions when Adam threw him on the back seat and swallowed his cock. Adam came in his jeans with Tommy's hands twisting in his hair and nothing more than the press of the car's frame against his dick.

"That went well then?" Tommy said once he had his breath back and realized that he was palming a wet spot not a hard-on.

"Imagine doing that in front of ten thousand people," Adam answered.

Tommy huffed a laugh. "If we did _that_ in front of ten thousand people there might be indecency charges or something."

"Fuck 'em if they can't take a blow job."

"We _were_ awesome."

"Just imagine it, though." Adam was picturing himself on stage at the Civic Theater, band at his back, Tommy at his side, singing for a packed audience. There was a ways to go, maybe, but he wanted to get there.

"Today the Bronze, tomorrow the world?"

"Tomorrow LA, maybe, but we're going to make it. I can feel it." Adam cupped Tommy's junk which he had just gotten buttoned back into his jeans.

"You've done enough _feeling_ for right now. Let's go before they send a search party."

Adam held Tommy's chin between his forefinger and his thumb, making sure his boyfriend was looking at him. "Thank you," he said.

Tommy's eyes fluttered shut and his lips parted. Adam had to kiss him. When he finally pulled away, Tommy caught his gaze. "Thank _you_ ," he said.

They went back inside to let their friends buy them drinks.

******

Everything kind of went to shit after that for a while. The perils of living on a Hellmouth. There was the irritating night that Oz didn't show up to help Adam and Tommy figure out how one of their songs would sound with guitar and bass, that thereafter became the _awful_ night that Oz didn't show because Willow had gotten kidnapped by the evil mayor, who was also insane, and also immortal, and also had turned Faith evil. Adam was a little fuzzy on that last part, but not on how he felt about a girl with a really big knife holding his best friend hostage.

He was torn for about two days between being furious with Oz for not telling him until after it was over, and being glad he didn't know until Willow was safe and right in front of him, manic gleam in her eyes. But then Mr. Giles pulled him aside and told him why they preferred as few people as possible get involved with these things, and Oz told him about the horrible giant bugs, and Xander asked if he'd ever fired a crossbow, and Adam decided that Oz had probably done the right thing.

Then Willow told Adam what the mayor had planned for graduation.

They fought for almost an hour about how stupid it was to stay (Adam's stance) and how cowardly it was to leave (Willow's), and then Adam had to have the same fight all over again with Tommy from the opposite side. It all boiled down in the end to _if you're staying, I'm staying._ Adam blamed Buffy, because he had to blame someone, and he figured she was used to taking the blame by now. Besides, it wasn't like he was going to actually _tell_ her. He still felt a little guilty, though, and lobbied hard to get her voted Class Protector at the prom.

The hours Adam wanted to be writing music with his boyfriend, he spent learning how to use a crossbow and practicing with Tommy to hit a paper bullseye nailed to a tree behind the school. Xander joined them sometimes, and then, as graduation day drew closer, more and more people came, with hunting bows and homemade ones, with slingshots and stakes and staffs. Buffy and Mr. Giles and another English man whose name Adam kept forgetting circled constantly, correcting grips and giving advice. They were a rag-tag bunch at best, and Adam was still totally unclear what arrows were meant to do against an immortal hell beast, but he was going to do everything he could to get him and Tommy out of high school alive, so he trained.

 

Not everyone survived graduation day. But Adam's family and friends made it through, and he didn't actually see anyone human get killed, though he did make use of all that target practice and managed to dust three vampires with his bow before he lost it in the melee. Tommy fought at his side until it was time to run and they ran together. Adam had told his mom and Neil to get out the second anything started to look weird, and he'd seen them escape as soon as the sky went dark. He felt a twinge of guilt that he wasn't watching out for Willow during the fight, but she was fiercer than almost anyone else he knew, and she had Buffy at her side and Oz looking out for her, too. Besides, Adam could only focus on Tommy.

It was amazing (or maybe not) what nearly getting killed by a pack of vampires and a rampaging demon would do for a strained relationship with one's parents. Leila and Eber were thrilled they still had an eldest son, and were no longer interested in the least in arguing with him about his future. They even decided to contribute $300 a month to his living expenses so long as he kept at least a part-time job.

Willow was staying in Sunnydale with Buffy, and Adam figured Oz would stay, too, but the morning Adam and Tommy were leaving to go up and spend the weekend with Karl looking for an apartment he dropped by and said, "Don't suppose you want a third roommate?"

They looked at each other and Oz added, "I'm mostly looking for a home base. You can have as much sex as you want, and I've got the wolf thing covered these days."

Tommy shrugged and Adam gave him a little nod, and said to Oz, "We'll see what we can find."

 

They ended up in a small one-bedroom place near Plummer Park that had room for Oz's futon in the short end of the L-shaped living room. Tommy's cousin was only a mile away and said they could use his garage for band practice if they'd audition a drummer he just met whose pants he'd very much like to get into. She turned out to be awesome with her sticks, but Karl had to keep his hands in his own pants and settle for watching her play.

Adam was happy, and he didn't care who knew it. In West Hollywood, he wasn't just the gay kid anymore. He was Adam Lambert. He was a musician with a part-time job at Starbucks, a hot boyfriend who could shred on guitar and rock black lipstick, and a housemate who had a secret and was prone to taking off at least once a month. He hadn't exactly hated Sunnydale—which gave him Willow, and Tommy, and a new dream for himself—but Los Angeles was better. Los Angeles was the place to make the rest of his dreams come true.

Not that it was as easy as finding a good drummer and someone to play keys, but it felt like it might be possible to make it in the music business in LA if you weren't too picky about the venues you started off in and were willing to put yourself out there.

With Tommy by his side, Adam was always willing to put himself out there.

~~fin~~

**Author's Note:**

> Timelines fudged a wee bit to work. Also, sometimes when a show runner handwaves logic in his finale, it can be fixed in fan fiction. Sometimes more Adam/Tommy takes priority and the handwaving continues.
> 
> This story literally would not exist if it weren't for amazonziti. She was not only instrumental in its inception, but she was a tireless cheerleader, idea-provider, Buffy guru, friend, beta, and inspiration.


End file.
